


Competition Day

by ArabellaFaith



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Groundhog Day, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, References to ABBA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaFaith/pseuds/ArabellaFaith
Summary: The video of Yuuri skating Victor's routine never makes it online. When they end up skating together in the Rostelecom Cup on Yuuri's 24th birthday, the universe takes drastic measures to set things back on the right path (and maybe fix a few more things along the way).  AKA, Yuri on Ice meets Groundhog's Day!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I am continuing my slow process of crossposting my YOI stories from FFN to AO3. This is a fun little fic I wrote not long after the show finished. It is completed at 21k words. Enjoy!

Yuri Katsuki woke up the morning of his twenty fourth birthday like any other day.  His alarm went off, blaring  _ Dancing Queen _ which Mari had programmed it to a week ago and he hadn't figured out how to change it back.  He fumbled for his phone, finally snatching it off the bedside table and hitting the snooze just as ABBA was starting to  _ feel the beat of the tambourine oooh yeah _ .

 

Once the music went off, he felt along blindly for his glasses and sat up.  The room he was staying in was nice enough, but its proximity to the rink was what he'd really cared about when reserving it, so he ignored the ugly burgundy bedspread and slightly scratchy towels.  A text notification pulled him from his ruminating on his lodgings and he checked his phone.  _ Good luck, honey! _  The cheery message from his mother brought a small smile to Yuuri's face.  He pulled on his practice clothes, checked to make sure his costume and skates were safely packed in his duffel bag, then headed across the street to the rink.

 

Though there would be half a dozen other skaters practicing that morning, he was the first one on the ice.  He put in his ear phones and began to warm up, stretching and going through basic drills. Once he felt limber enough, he ran through his Free Skate program.  He didn't miss a single jump. Not that it made any difference in practice. He'd made all his jumps during practice at the Grand Prix final the year before and still missed them during the actual program.  Then he'd done it again at nationals. It had taken intense training to get himself back into shape after letting the depression have it's way with his body. Requalifying for nationals had been a near thing, but by some stroke of luck, he'd managed to squeak by.

 

Now, he needed to get a good ranking at the Rostelecom cup in order to qualify for the Grand Prix Final again.  Originally, the reason he'd been so determined to make it to the GPF had been not just to redeem himself after his abysmal failure, but to skate on the same ice as his idol, Victor Nikiforov again.  By yet another bit of luck, however, he was already getting to do that. Victor, too, was competing at the Rostelecom cup. Yuuri began to sweat every time he thought about it.

 

Of course, Victor had landed himself firmly in first place after the Short Program the day before.  No one had expected otherwise. Yuuri hadn't come in last, at least, but he would need to move up from his current place in fourth if he wanted to qualify for the Grand Prix.  How he was going to do that, he wasn't sure. No matter what he did, the nerves still got to him. If he couldn't find a way to manage the pressure, he was going to miss his jumps and fail to qualify.

 

Yuuri tried to clear his mind and lose himself in his skating.  The music had changed from the familiar tune of his free skate program to the song that Victor had used at the GPF the previous year.  Yuuri had learned the entire program as a way to deal with his depression, and it had worked incredibly well. Not only had it forced him to start getting back into shape after he'd let himself go, but it also allowed him to feel close to the man he'd idolized for so long.  He closed his eyes and let his feet move through the now familiar steps. It was a routine he could do extraordinarily well when there was no pressure. The only one he'd ever showed it to had been Yuuko, shortly after he'd arrived back in Japan. He had performed it for her on the same rink where he'd first learned to skate.  Every move had flowed through him like quicksilver, dancing along his skin and moving his body with a rhythm from within.

 

Of course, he only ever skated like that when there was no pressure, no one he needed to impress.  Yuuko's girls had secretly recorded the whole thing, but Yuuri thanked his lucky stars that he'd found the video and managed to delete it before they did something crazy like upload it to youtube.  What a disaster that would have been. Yes, it was some of the best skating he'd ever done, but he wasn't able to stomach the idea of the rest of the world seeing such a personal performance.

 

When his foot landed on the last jump, he overextended and stumbled.  Even  _ thinking _ about what might have happened if he hadn't deleted that video still made him nervous enough to fall.  His chest seized with a moment of panic as he thought of making just as much of a fool of himself later on during his free skate.  He was so focused on trying to calm his racing heart that he hadn't noticed someone else on the ice. Hadn't noticed them skating over to him.  And so, jumped and shrieked like a little girl when a hand was held out to help him up.

 

Yuuri's eyes darted up the arm that the hand belonged to, then to the face smiling down at him.

 

_ Victor _ .

 

He could only stare for a moment, hardly daring to believe it.  When Victor's lips moved, no sound emerged, making Yuuri wonder if this was really a dream or something.  But no, he couldn't hear because his headphones were still in. He tugged them out, feeling his face flush, and tried to form a coherent sentence.

 

“V-Victor Nikiforov!”

 

Ah yes, coherent  _ and _ dignified.  Victor didn't seem to mind.  He smiled kindly and kept his hand held out in invitation.

 

“Katsuki Yuuri, yes?” he asked genially.  Yuuri nodded, slipping his hand tentatively into Victor's.  

 

“Call me Yuuri,” Yuuri added as Victor pulled him to his feet.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor repeated.  “Alright then. And I trust you're willing to return the gesture?”

 

“U-uh s-s-sure, Victor.”

 

“Good.”  The warm smile was still there, now seeming fixed in place as Victor looked Yuuri over from top to bottom.  “You did a rather lovely job performing my program, if I do say so myself. Perfect, up till the slip at the end.”

 

“You saw that, huh?”  Yuuri's face flamed bright red.  It was exactly the kind of thing he'd wanted to avoid.  Victor was never meant to see Yuuri's tribute to him.

 

“Indeed I did.  That's not your first time.”

 

“Uh, no.  I learned it after last years GPF, to... practice.”

 

“That's some practice.  You skated it better than I did.”

 

“What?!”  Yuuri's voice echoed around the empty rink and he clamped his hand over his mouth.  “N-no! Of course I didn't!”

 

Victor chuckled.  “Let's let the gold medalist here be the judge of that, shall we?  You're an incredibly talented skater, when you're not under pressure.” Yuuri didn't know what to say.  He shook his head and looked down, over Victor's shoulder, anywhere but into those piercing blue eyes. “So shy,” Victor chuckled.  “And here I thought we could be friends.”

 

“Friends?”  Yuuri's eyes did meet Victor's then, wide and shocked.

 

“Well of course.  Why not?”

 

“I just- I mean, of course I'm flattered-”

 

“Wonderful!  Why don't you come to lunch with me this afternoon, then?  I've been watching you skate all season, and I must say, we have a lot to talk about.”  Victor put one finger beneath Yuuri's chin and lifted it, bringing their faces close together.  Yuuri's breath stopped. “Noon, at the cafe down the street?”

 

Yuuri felt himself nod once and then there was a bang of the door being opened.  The voices of JJ and Leo rang out as they argued on their way to the rink. Victor smiled, winked, and skated away.  Yuuri felt the breath he'd been holding finally release. What had Victor meant? He'd been watching Yuuri all season?  They had a lot to talk about? He couldn't be serious, could he? 

 

On shaking legs, Yuuri made his way off the ice and changed back into his shoes.  He left the rink just as Seun Gil Lee and Emil Nekola were walking in. Emil waved brightly.  Yuuri barely acknowledged him. Seun Gil, who hadn't bothered to wave at all, didn't mind. Emil, on the other hand, looked hurt.  Yuuri was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice. He walked back to the hotel quickly and closed himself in the solitude of his room.

 

Anxiety began to creep up his spine until it tapped him on the shoulder like an old friend.  A chill went through him and his stomach clenched. Despite the deep breaths he took, it didn't seem as though he was getting enough air.  His skin grew clammy and it felt as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him, crushing him slowly but surely until there wouldn't be anything left of him but a smear on the ugly burgundy bedspread.

 

Yuuri stopped trying to fight the panic and let it consume him, dragging him along on a tide of fear and insecurity.

 

When he looked up again, the glaring red numbers on the clock by the bed told him it was ten minutes after noon.  If he rushed, he could still catch Victor at the cafe. But what could they possibly have to talk about? He didn't want to think something so cruel of his idol, but what if Victor had only invited him as a joke?  They had nothing in common; the idea of them being friends was laughable. Yuuri was too weak to be friends with someone like Victor Nikiforov, too inadequate, too... everything. Victor had probably just been being nice.  He probably wanted to have lunch on his own and was relieved that Yuuri hadn't shown up. It was better this way.

 

Yuuri watched as the minutes ticked by.  Twelve fifteen, twelve twenty, twelve thirty.  One o'clock. Victor would have eaten and left by then.  Hurt churned in Yuuri's gut, though he knew he had no right to feel it.  He wasn't the one who'd been stood up. He'd... oh, god, he'd just stood up Victor Nikiforov.  It didn't matter that Victor couldn't have actually wanted to have lunch with him anyways. If Victor Nikiforof invites you to lunch, you show up and let him have his way with you, even if all he wants is to mock you the entire time.

 

“I'm such an idiot,” Yuuri moaned, tears of frustration falling down his cheeks.  He pulled the pillow over his head and tried to blot out the rest of the world.

 

Several hours (and three orders from room service) later, Yuuri made his way back to the rink.  Hundreds of people filled the stands, milled around the lobby, and mingled together. Yuuri kept to himself.  With his earphones in, he had an excuse not to stop and talk to anyone. Just before the warm up, he caught sight of Victor and turned away.  He didn't know what he could possibly say to him, how he could explain, what excuses he could offer. On the ice, Victor spun past him twice, even held out a hand to help him up when Yuuri missed a jump, but Yuuri continued to turn away.  It was just like the GPF the year before, all over again. He was going to humiliate himself on national television, and in front of his idol,  _ again. _

 

The buzz in his ears started as soon as the programs began.  Emil skated first, followed by Seun Gil. Then, with the buzzing growing even louder, Yuuri stepped onto the ice.

 

He didn't miss  _ every _ jump, that was something, at least.  But he'd missed enough of them that he dropped to third immediately, then fourth after JJ's program, fifth after Leo, and finally landed in dead last after Victor finished skating.  He didn't bother to stay for the whole award ceremony, only staying long enough to see Victor getting his gold medal, then quietly left the rink.

 

Back at the hotel, he expected panic to grip him once more, but instead, despair settled around him like a second skin.  He'd known he was going to fail and of course he had. It wasn't as though he was surprised. The pressure was gone. His chance at making it to the GPF was gone.  And just like that, he felt his career slip through his fingers and shatter into a million little pieces. There was no coming back from this. Not for him, not again.  He'd accomplished his goal of skating with Victor once more, and he'd learned his lesson.

 

He was done.

 

After a hot shower, during which he'd cried until his whole body hurt, Yuuri collapsed into bed and waited for sleep to mute the pain of complete and utter failure.  Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow was the beginning of his life without skating. Tomorrow, he was going to start trying to move on.


	2. One

**One**

 

_ And if you get the chance.... you are the dancing queen!  Young and sweet, only seventeen! Dancing queen, feel the beat- _

 

Yuuri snatched his phone up and hit the snooze button.  He really needed to find a way to change that damn alarm.  Surprisingly, his eyes didn't feel gritty like they usually did after a night of crying.  In fact, his whole body felt great, which was wholly unexpected, all things considered. He laid on the bed for several minutes, trying – and failing – to keep the events of the previous day from coming to mind.  When his phone vibrated, he picked it up, glad for the distraction.

 

_ Good luck, honey! _

 

He stared at the message from his mother in bewilderment.  Had his phone somehow messed up and sent the message twice?  It wasn't as though his mother would do something so callous as send that message again on purpose.  Confused, he scrolled up his text history looking for the original message. It was gone. The previous message was from the 23 rd .  Where was the message from the 24 th ?  He knew he'd gotten it.  When he checked his calendar to make sure he hadn't somehow mixed up the dates, he was shocked again.

 

_ Friday, November 24 _ _ th _

That wasn't possible.  The free skate was on his birthday, and his birthday was the 24 th .  He'd skated (and failed) his free program the day before.  His phone had to be having a glitch. Tossing it aside, he went to the bathroom to shower.  The little complimentary soap and shampoo were unused, despite the fact that he'd taken two showers the day before.  Housekeeping must have replaced the old ones even though he'd opted out of having his room cleaned.

 

When he had his bags packed – hadn't he put those clothes away the night before? - he left the hotel and stood on the sidewalk wondering if he would be able to have his ticket changed so he could fly out that morning or if he would have to wait in the airport all day.  Of course, he could always keep his original ticket and leave Moscow the next day, but-

 

“Katsuki Yuuri!”  Victor jogged over, his sports bag jostling behind him.  He grinned and waved. “Just the man I was hoping to see!”

 

“V-Victor-”  Yuuri flushed and shifted his weight nervously.  “I'm sorry about yesterday, I just-”

 

“For yesterday?  Why should you apologize?  Your short program was fine.”

 

“My short program...”  Yuuri was incredibly confused.  Surely Victor was upset that Yuuri hadn't showed up for lunch?  Unless he really had only been offering to be polite and was glad Yuuri hadn't come after all.  Unhappiness swamped him. Of course. He should have known that was the case.

 

“Come on, let's practice together.  I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now.”  Victor looped his arm casually over Yuuri's shoulders and started to walk toward the rink.

 

“Practice?  I don't need to.”

 

Victor raised a brow.  “That confident, eh? I'm surprised.”

 

“Confident?  Hardly. But I don't need to practice since I'm not performing in the exhibition tonight.  I was actually on my way to the airport.”

 

“The airport?  Yuuri, you'll miss your free skate tonight!  What are you talking about?”

 

“Me?  What are  _ you _ talking about?  The free skate was  _ yesterday.  _ I don't need a reminder of what-”

 

“Yesterday was the short program, Yuuri.”  Victor's voice had turned low and concerned.  “Are you alright? Did you hit your head during practice before or something?  You're not making any sense.”

 

“Of course I am!  Yesterday was the 24 th , we skated the free program, you won as usual, I came in dead last and now I just want to go home.”  Yuuri tried to pull away but Victor kept his arm around him.

 

“You must have had a dream, then, because  _ today _ is the 24 th .   Look.”  Victor took his phone from his pocket and showed it to Yuuri.  The screen was in Russian, but the 24 was easy enough to see. Yuuri stared at it. He pulled his own phone out and looked.  It still said the 24 th as well.  There was a paper stand a few feet ahead of them and Yuuri lurched forward to look at it.

 

Friday, November 24th

 

What the hell was going on?  Yuuri put his hand to his head and tried to focus his whirling thoughts.

 

“A-a dream?” Was it possible?  But... it had all felt so real.  He could hardly believe that none of it had actually happened...

 

“Why don't we go sit down?  I think maybe you should have something to drink.  Look, there's a cafe over there.” Victor pointed to the cafe across the street and ushered Yuuri towards it.  When the waiter seated them, he asked for water and then encouraged Yuuri to take a sip. Yuuri raised the glass to his lips with numb fingers.  A dream. A  _ nightmare _ , more like.  And if none of it had really happened, then he hadn't failed yet.

 

Suddenly the confused relief that had been starting to blossom in his chest turned to panic.  He hadn't failed yet, but he  _ would _ .

 

“How do you feel?” Victor asked, his face and voice full of concern.

 

“I'm okay,” Yuuri replied mechanically.  Victor studied him closely. Unnerved under the scrutiny of the man he'd watched from afar for so many years, Yuuri went on.  “It just felt so real, you know? As real as this now. I've never had a dream like that before.”

 

“Have you been sleeping?”

 

Yuuri shrugged.  “As well as normal, I guess.  I don't sleep great before competitions.  Nerves.”

 

“I noticed you don't handle pressure well.  You let it get to you at last year's GPF as well as your nationals.”

 

“Y-you saw that?”

 

“I've been watching you for a while now, Yuuri,” Victor admitted.  Yuuri's breath hitched. He'd heard those words before. But it had just been a bad dream, right?  “What? What's wrong?” Victor cocked his head, looking somewhat abashed for the first time.

 

“Nothing.  Just deja vu.”

 

“Oh?  From your dream?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why don't you tell me about it?  What happened?” Victor rested his chin on his folded hands and smiled invitingly.

 

“I- uh, well you came in and saw me practicing your program from last year-”

 

“You were skating my old program in your dream?”  The smile widened.

 

“Not like, during the competition or anything!  I was just doing it to relax.”

 

“You  _ actually _ know how to skate my routine?”

 

Yuuri's face flushed red once again.  “M-maybe.” He studied the silverware in front of him.  He waited for Victor to laugh, to mock him, or even just scoff dismissively.

 

“I wish I could see that.  I'll bet you skate it beautifully.”  Victor slid his hand across the table and tapped Yuuri's knuckles softly.  Yuuri looked up and then back down quickly. “But I side tracked you. You were telling me about your dream.  Please go on.”

 

“Well, you saw me skating, and came to talk to me after I fell.  You... invited me to lunch. Here, actually.” He gestured around them.

 

“In this very cafe?”

 

Yuuri nodded.  “And I went back to the hotel and then I just, uh, stayed there.”

 

“Until lunch?”

 

“I mean,  _ through _ lunch.  I never went.”

 

“You stood me up?”  Victor gasped in shock.  “I'm affronted on behalf of my dream self.”

 

“Well it was absurd!  Victor Nikiforov inviting me out to lunch?  It's not like you could possibly have actually wanted to have a meal with me.  I just figured it was better that way.”

 

“Yu-uri,” Victor drew out his name into two stern syllables.  “I don't believe in prophetic dreams, but your dream  _ did _ have that part right.  I've been wanting to spend some time with you.  I was actually thinking of seeing if you would come to lunch or dinner with me sometime while you're in Russia.  And I would be extremely disappointed if you stood me up.”

 

“B-but... why?”  Yuuri shook his head.  “Why would you possibly want to spend time with  _ me _ ?”

 

Victor clicked his tongue.  “I've been wanting to get to know you better since last year's GPF, to be honest.  I expected you to contact me, but you never did. That's beside the point, though. I'm sure dream me was very upset that you didn't show up.  What did you do instead?”

 

“I, uh,” Yuuri bit his lip, embarrassed to admit the truth.  He thought about lying, but what was the point? He'd already humiliated himself completely.  “I hid in my hotel until the free skate.”

 

“And what happened?”

 

“I bombed it.  Came in dead last, and by a wide margin.  You took first, of course.”

 

“Well, the rest of your dream might have some deeper meaning in there, but I'm certain that the last part is pure nerves.  You're in fourth. It would be quite easy for you to get onto the podium, or even take first from where you're at.”

 

Yuuri scoffed.  “As if I would pass you.”

 

“Where is all this self doubt coming from?  You're the top skater in your country. Last year you were top six in the  _ world _ .  I don't understand why you are so hard on yourself.”

 

“There are dozens of better skaters.  And last year was the first year I did make it to the top, and look what happened.”

 

“What  _ did _ happen?” Victor asked, leaning in closer.  “I've watched videos of it since, and you skated that program just fine before.  You should have easily placed at least third.”

 

“I just... I told you, I don't do well under pressure.  I've never gotten used to it. And it was my first time skating at that level, on the same ice as  _ you _ , and I just-”  Yuuri looked up to see Victor's eyes widen in surprise, and he rushed on to try and gloss over just how awed he was by the man sitting across from him.  “Plus, my dog died, and I started comfort eating and it all just piled up.”

 

“I'm sorry about your dog, Yuuri.  I know that couldn't have been easy.”

 

“Thanks,” Yuuri sighed.  “It's not an excuse. I know I wouldn't have done as well anyway, but it certainly didn't help.”  

 

The sat in silence for a few minutes, then Victor drained the last of his coffee and pushed away from the table.  “Come on, let's go to the rink. I think we could both use a little time on the ice.”

 

“I can just go over on my own.  I'm sure you want to get some practice in, and I wouldn't want to slow you down.”  Yuuri grabbed his duffel bag and started to turn.

 

“Do you really not want to skate with me?”  Victor sounded hurt. Yuuri turned back, shocked.

 

“Of course that's not what I mean, but-”

 

Victor brightened up immediately.  “Well, then, let's go!” He slung his arm over Yuuri's shoulders once more and steered them back toward the rink.  When they walked in, JJ and Leo were already on the ice passing friendly insults back and forth. Emil was doing a light warm up in the corner and Seun Gil was lacing his skates up.    “Hello, everyone!” Victor called. Emil turned and waved brightly, as did Leo. JJ gave a mocking salute and Seun Gil barely inclined his head. The coaches that were scattered around the edge of the rink waved as well.  Yuuri tried to make himself as invisible as possible beside Victor, feeling inadequate just to stand beside him.

 

They put on their skates and glided onto the ice, separating themselves from the others.  Victor danced backward a little, grinning. Yuuri felt himself blush just from that smile.  It felt intimate, somehow, as if they had some shared history that only the two of them knew about.  

 

“Come, Yuuri, show me the jumps you missed in this dream of yours.”

 

“I don't know if that's-”

 

“Training the competition now, Nikiforov?” came the taunt from across the rink.  Victor's eyes narrowed and he turned, seeking the source. “Don't tell me you really think you're so far above the rest of us that you're handing out tips.  Or do you just think Katsuki is that bad?”

 

“Who are you again?” Victor asked flatly, having cleared his face of all expression.  JJ sputtered and glowered.

 

“You know who the hell I am!  We competed against each other three times last year!  I'm the Canadian skating champion! I'm the  _ king _ !”

 

“Oh really?”  Victor cocked his head to the side and flashed a tight lipped, condescending smile.  “And here I thought Canadians were known for their kindness and generosity. What a shame you seem to be the exception.”  JJ gasped in outrage. “Why don't you work on learning some better manners before you talk to me again, whatever your name is, hm?”

 

“Why you- you-”

 

Victor turned back to Yuuri and this time, the smile on his lips was genuine.  “Now, where were we?”

 

“Do you really not now his name?”  Yuuri didn't know whether to be depressed or amused.  Victor shrugged and didn't look at all ashamed.

 

“I know I've skated with him before, but I never bothered to learn his name.  He doesn't interest me.”

 

“What, and I do?”  Suddenly JJ's taunt seemed all the more true.  “I'm sure you pity me, but you don't have to waste your time-”

 

“Pity you?”  Victor looked upset.  “Why would you think I pity you?”

 

“Because you're  _ you _ , and I...  I'm just the skater who cracks under pressure and dreams about abysmal failure.”

 

“That's not how I see you.”

 

“What else could you possibly see?”

 

“I see a talented skater, a man who struggles with anxiety but always faces his challenges head on, an incredible dancer, a passionate individual with hidden facets, depths greater than anyone – even you - has ever fathomed.”  Victor gripped Yuuri's shoulders to emphasize his point.

 

“You... you barely even know me,” Yuuri whispered, unable to believe what he was saying could possibly be the truth.  As he watched, the hope in Victor's eyes withered. Whatever he'd been expecting from Yuuri, this wasn't it.

 

“Maybe so.  But what I do know, I like.  Is it so hard to believe that I'd like the chance to get to know you more?”  Before Yuuri could think of how to answer, Victor shook his head. “Don't answer that.  It's not fair of me to put so much pressure on you right before we compete. Let's just practice, hm?  We can talk about all the rest of this tomorrow.”

 

“Alright,” Yuuri agreed, wondering if that would ever actually happen.  He ought to have been giddy at the prospect, but instead he was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.  Whatever Victor was expecting from him, he would be a disappointment. And the pain of watching Victor turn from him would be unbearable.  Wasn't it better to put a stop to this nonsense now, before it got that far?

 

_ A man who struggles with anxiety but always faces his challenges head on. _

 

That was how Victor had described him.  And already Yuuri was contemplating running away instead of taking a risk.  He was left with two choices. He could tell himself that Victor was wrong, that he didn't have the strength to face a challenge like that one and let the panic make him turn away without even trying... or he could take a chance, attempt to be the man Victor thought he was.  Rise to the occasion and maybe,  _ maybe _ , come out the better for it.

 

Emil left the rink first, taking a call on his cell phone and walking out talking animatedly in Italian.  JJ followed soon after, shooting one last glare Victor's direction. Victor didn't even notice. Leo, who had been skating idly with his eyes closed listening intently to music through his head phones, finally looked up and realized that it was already after noon.  He left the rink as well, waving to the three still on the ice.

 

“I'm going to go get lunch,” Victor announced.  He paused, as if debating saying something more, but looked at Yuuri and finally shook his head.  “I'll see you later, Yuuri.” Then, it was just Yuuri and Seun Gil in the rink. The Korean was still focused wholly on his skating, not paying any attention to the slowly emptying area around him.  Yuuri considered asking if he wanted something delivered for lunch, but decided to leave the man alone. He obviously wasn't there to socialize. Yuuri could respect that.

 

After doing one last jump – which he landed, thankfully – Yuuri left the rink as well.  He considered going to the deli for lunch, but didn't want to risk running into Victor there.  It wasn't that he didn't want to see his idol, but when he still hadn't decided if he could be who and what Victor expected of him, he didn't feel like he  _ deserved _ to see him. __ Instead, he returned to the hotel and ordered room service.  Once his meal was finished, he thought about returning to the rink for more practice, but decided against it.  Victor would likely be there, which would only distract him. And if he missed any of his jumps, he would likely only get too much into his own head and end up worse off because of it.

 

So he stayed in his room until it was time to get ready, then returned to the rink with his costume on.  Victor gave him a searching look as they passed each other, but said nothing. Yuuri shivered. He felt almost as if he was being weighed.  And his every insecurity told him that he would be found deficient.

 

He skated third in the line up, and though he landed most of his jumps, he still dropped to below Seun Gil.  His memory of the day before -  _ of my memory of my dream of yesterday,  _ he corrected himself – rose up and he knew, just knew, that JJ would take third, Leo would place second, and Victor, of course, would be first.  Which is exactly what happened.

 

Yuuri watched the award ceremony and tried to make a final decision about how he wanted to handle Victor.  There had been times, while they talked and as they skated together during practice, that Yuuri had seen flashes of a very human version of Victor.  A man who smiled easily, forgot things far too readily, and enjoyed adventure. Yuuri could face that man. He could bare his soul to him, open his heart to him.  But the skater Yuuri saw on the podium wasn't that man. It was the perfect skating legend Victor Nikiforov. Untouchable, out of Yuuri's reach, out of Yuuri's league.

 

When they left the ice, Victor saw Yuuri watching and beckoned him over.  Yuuri wanted to go. He took a step, then his eyes caught on the shining gold medal on Victor's chest, and everything negative welled up within him in a raging tide that froze his forward momentum.  No, he wasn't who Victor thought he was, who Victor wanted him to be. And he never could be.

 

Yuuri turned, and left the rink without looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two**

 

_ You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life!   Oooh, see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing- _

 

Yuuri finally managed to push the snooze on his alarm during the second verse and groaned.  Seriously, the first thing he was going to do when he got home was force Mari to change that ring tone.   __ He fished for his glasses and then settled them on his nose with a yawn.  He froze in the middle of it. His bag, which he'd packed and purposely set by the door the night before, was open at the foot of the bed.

 

Dread iced his blood and for a moment he wondered if someone had broken into the room.  But who would break in, unpack his bag, and then leave quietly? It didn't make sense. When his phone buzzed, the dread settled into his stomach this time.  He picked it up and knew what the message was going to say even before he turned the screen on.

 

_ Good luck, honey! _

 

It was a dream.  It had to be a dream.  He was stuck in some kind of weird dream loop that he couldn't seem to wake up from.  It was the 24 th again, his birthday again, the day of his free skate again.  But Yuuri was tired of playing. He wasn't going to just idly replay the same awful day over and over again.  This time, he was going to take matters into his own hands. It was  _ his _ dream, and he could do whatever he wanted.  No consequences. The fact that it wasn't real meant that there was no pressure, no anxiety.

 

With a kind of giddy glee he hadn't felt since childhood, he dressed and headed out onto the street.  He didn't know exactly where Victor was staying, but he knew the direction he'd walked from the day before, so Yuuri headed that way with a spring in his step.  Sure enough, that stunning silver hair came into view a few minutes later. Yuuri practically danced up to his side.

 

“Victor!”  He went right up and hugged Victor tight.  Despite the fact that it was his dream, Yuuri was still surprised when Victor hugged him back and laughed.

 

“Yuuri!”

 

When he pulled back, Victor was grinning.  “You have the most beautiful smile, has anyone ever told you that?”  Victor actually blushed a little. “Of course they have, you're Victor Nikiforov.  But who cares, I'll say it again, because I can, and because you deserve to hear it every day.  You have a beautiful smile. You're a beautiful man, actually. Come have breakfast with me.”

 

“So bold today, Yuuri,” Victor laughed.  “Of course I will. Where shall we go?”

 

“There's a deli just up the street that has coffee that you'll love.”

 

“Lead the way, then.”  Victor gestured ahead, and Yuuri looped his arm through Victor's.  They set off towards the cafe. “You certainly seem different than yesterday.”

 

“I'm exactly the same as I was yesterday, and the day before,” Yuuri assured him.  “And so are you. Because this is all just how I'm imagining it. Which means I can tell you anything and that's okay.”

 

Victor looked at him, confused but happy.  “You can definitely tell me anything.”

 

“In that case, let's start at the beginning.  I fell in love with your skating when I was seven.  And I've loved it ever since. You've always enthralled me, driven me to do better, just in the hopes that one day I could be close to you.  And now here you are, about to have breakfast with me.” The waiter seated them, and Yuuri genially ordered Victor's coffee.

 

“It's nice to know I had such an earnest fan.”

 

“Your very biggest fan,” Yuuri assured him.  “I have the posters to prove it.”

 

“Oh really?”  Victor rested his chin on his cupped hand and smiled.   Yuuri nodded somberly.

 

“That's not all,” he whispered, leaning in.  Victor mirrored the move. “I have a dakimakura, too.”

 

Victor's eyes widened and the tips of his ears turned pink.  “You really  _ are _ my biggest fan,” he murmured.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Then why has it taken you so long to get in touch with me?  I assumed after the GPF you would contact me.”

 

“No, no, no, I couldn't do that.  I'd never have the courage to approach you out of the blue in real life.”

 

“Oh?  What is this then?”

 

“A dream, of course.”

 

“Is it, now?”

 

“Yes.  My dream.  Which means I get to do anything I want.  And what I want, is to spend the day with you.  I'm sure you could show me all the sights, but what I want is to find a restaurant that serves pork cutlet bowls and get to know every single thing about you.”

 

Victor looked surprised.  “Your dream day with me doesn't involve skating?  That's what  _ everyone _ wants from me.”

 

“Exactly.  I love your skating.  I  _ love _ your skating.  But that's what everyone gets.  What I want is the other you. The side that no one else gets to see.  I want the part of you that forgets people's names and laughs too loud at jokes and does outrageous things.”

 

“And here I thought you'd prefer my better qualities.”

 

“Don't you see, Victor?” Yuuri asked, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt.  “Those  _ are _ your best qualities.”  Victor's breath caught, and the look in his eyes was of a man half in love.  Yuuri felt a swoop of pure elation flit through his chest.

 

They spent the entire morning walking around the city looking for a restaurant that served  _ katsudon _ .  It was just past noon when they finally found one, a tiny little place tucked between a convenience store and a warehouse.  They sat themselves on the rickety chairs and continued their conversation.

 

“Yes, but you see, that's where you're wrong.  The bubble beard is not only more dignified, but you also don't risk getting soap up your nose if you inhale too quickly.”

 

“No, no, no, you're just taking the easy way!” Victor defended animatedly.  “The bubble mustache takes care and dedication. It's far more prestigious when you do finally pull it off.  Very worth the effort.”

 

“Maybe, if you could get a handlebar mustache, I could agree, but no one can get bubbles to go out that far.”

 

“Oh, Yuuri, you underestimate my skills.  I could get handlebars out to  _ here _ .”  He brought his hands up ten inches apart on either side of his face.  Yuuri laughed loudly.

 

“You could not!”

 

“I could too!”

 

“Liar!”

 

“I'll prove it,” Victor declared.

 

“Oh really?”  Yuuri leaned closer and took Victor's chin in his hand.  “You're going to get in a bubble bath with me?”

 

Victor's mouth dropped open, then snapped shut.  “Well I didn't know the offer was open, but now that I do...”  He took Yuuri's hand from his chin and kissed the back of it.

 

“Of course the offer's open.  I already told you I've been in love with you since I was seven.”  Yuuri took a bite of his  _ katsudon _ with his free hand and smirked.

 

“Ah ah, you said you were in love with my  _ skating _ since you were seven.  You could love my skating and have no interest in me off the ice.  Though I did have my suspicions after last year's banquet. And my hopes.”  He turned Yuuri's hand and kissed the inside of his palm, then his wrist. A low sound of pleasure rose from Yuuri's throat and he fought the urge to throw himself into Victor's lap right there in the restaurant.  But there were things he just couldn't quite do, even in dreams.

 

“Let's go somewhere else,” he blurted out, rising from his seat.  

 

“Like the hotel?”  Victor blinked a few times and then shook his head.  “But no, we should be getting back to the rink. We at least need to be there in time for the warm up since we haven't practiced all day.”

 

“Not to the rink.  Let's skip the competition.”

 

“S-skip the-”  Victor pulled them both to a stop.  “Yuuri, are you crazy? We can't skip the competition!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because this is our careers!  If we miss the free skate, we won't qualify for the GPF, which will practically exclude us from every other competition for the rest of the season!”

 

“So?”  Yuuri shrugged and grinned.

 

“So?  So... so...”  Victor struggled for a better reason.  “I... you're right.”

 

“Of course I am.  Let's go!” He slid his hand into Victor's and held it tight.  Together, they started across the road.

 

“Yuuri, you are a mad, mad man.  But I don't think I've ever been this ha-”

 

The blare of the horn drowned out the rest of Victor's words.  There was a screeching sound, the smell of burning rubber, a sharp tug as Victor tried to put himself between Yuuri and the car.  Then, everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Three**

 

Yuuri woke up with a gasp, the sound of cheery disco music dim in his ears compared to the scream of rubber on asphalt.  His pulse was racing and sweat covered his body, but otherwise he felt fine. No injuries at all. The ugly burgundy comforter was covering him.  His bag was open and unpacked at the end of the bed.

 

He picked up his phone, silenced the alarm, and saw the date.

 

Friday, November 24 th .  Again.

 

Yuuri flopped back onto the bed and thanked every deity he knew of that he'd been given another chance.  For the first time, he didn't think he was going crazy, didn't think he was dreaming. And he began to wonder if there wasn't a  _ reason _ this was happening.  He laid there for a long time, long after his phone chirped at him with a text he didn't have to read to know what it said.  Long after the rest of the skaters were likely at the rink, practicing. Getting ready for a competition Yuuri had already lost.  Twice.

 

What was it that he was supposed to do?  Was this some cosmic loop that would keep being reset until he fixed a mistake or arrived at a certain outcome?  If so, how was he supposed to know what it was?

 

Eventually, he decided that the answer wasn't going to be found in his hotel room.  He grabbed his sports bag and found himself headed over to the rink. Inside, the other five competitors were practicing.  JJ landed a ridiculously high quad and cut right in front of Leo. They swapped insults with each other. Emil was trying to draw Seun Gil into conversation and being snubbed.  Victor had stopped as soon as Yuuri walked in.

 

“Yuuri!”  He waved and smiled.  “I was wondering when you would join us.”

 

Yuuri froze at the sight.  The last time he'd seen Victor's eyes, they'd been wide with horror.  Anguish gripped his heart, but he shook his head to try and clear it away.  Victor was right there, he was safe and whole. Nothing bad had happened. Still, the memory of it was enough to make him leery.  Perhaps it was better to avoid Victor all together. Instead of replying, he put on his skates and looked at the other men. Maybe one of them had some trouble with the universe that needed resolved.

 

He skated over to Emil, who looked the friendliest, and ignored the hurt that flashed across Victor's face as he passed him without acknowledging him at all.

 

“Emil, hi,” he greeted.  Emil smiled and stopped the sequence he was working on to reply.

 

“Hello, Katsuki!  Getting an awfully late start on the ice today, yeah?”

 

“I just had some... things, that I needed to figure out earlier.”  He floundered for what to say. It wasn't as if he could just ask the man outright if he had any unfinished business that might suck them into a time loop.  “So, uh, how have you been?”

 

“Fine, fine as always.  Though I'd be better if I was competing at Skate America like Mickey and Sara.”  He laughed.

 

“Oh?  I didn't know you were close with the Crispino's.”

 

“Not that Mickey would admit to it.  He still thinks I'm trying to steal Sara away so he swears we are mortal enemies.”

 

_ “Are _ you trying to steal her away?”  Unrequited love was a good enough reason for a universal disturbance, right?  “She's a beautiful woman.”

 

“That she is, but unfortunately, she's not my type.  It drives Mickey crazy when I flirt with her, though, so I keep doing it.”

 

Yuuri frowned.  “You lead her on just to tease her brother?”

 

“Oh, no, nothing like that.  What do you take me for, Katsuki?”  Emil huffed. “She knows I'm not really pursuing her.  Besides,  _ I'm _ not  _ her _ type, either, if you know what I mean.”  He lifted his shaggy blonde brows.

 

Yuuri didn't know what he meant, but wasn't sure if he wanted to ask.  “Oh, well... good then.” This wasn't going the way he'd hoped it would.  “I, uh, I don't suppose you have any secret confessions you are looking to get off your chest?  Any big decisions you've been putting off making, anything like that?”

 

“Uh...”  Emil looked at Yuuri as if he was crazy.  Which, of course, was exactly what he sounded like.  

  
  


“Sorry, that wasn't a great question-”

 

“No, it's fine, I'm just surprised.  Am I really that transparent?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I mean, you're the only one who's brought it up, but maybe everyone else is just too polite to say anything.  Here I thought I was being discreet, and I'm making a fool of myself instead.”

 

“No, that's not what I meant-”

 

“Do you think he knows too?”

 

“He?”

 

“Mickey.”

 

“Uh, well-”

 

“Because if he knows, then he would say something if he felt the same, right?  So the fact that he keeps up the ruse of chasing me away from Sara means he's not interested.”  Emil hung his head.

 

“No, maybe not,” Yuuri rushed to say.  Emil perked up with hope. “I mean, it's not like you've been that obvious.  I doubt anyone else knows, so he probably doesn't know either. If you like him, you should just tell him.”

 

“You really think so?”

 

“It's always best to be direct and honest.  If he feels the same, you'll know and you can do something about it together.  If he doesn't, then you won't have to wonder any more.”

 

“I-I'm not sure I can be that bold with him.”

 

“Of course you can,” Yuuri assured him.  “You know him, don't you? If you care for him, then there has to be goodness and kindness in him.  He'll listen to what you have to say. But you'll never know if you don't take the risk.”

 

Resolve replaced the uncertainty in Emil's eyes.  “You're right. I'm going to go call him.” He started to skate to the edge of the rink, then turned back.  “Thanks, Katsuki.”

 

Yuuri inclined his head in acknowledged.  Once Emil was out the door, he hurried off the ice so that he wouldn't have to face Victor.  In the time until the competition, he ordered room service and paced his room. Were Emil's unconfessed feelings for Mickey what made the day keep repeating?  They were surprising, certainly – he never would have guessed that the Czech skater was harboring a secret love for the  _ male _ Crispino twin – but was that really enough to set time tripping into a supernatural loop?

 

He couldn't be sure.  Honestly, he couldn't even be sure that some sort of unfinished business was what made the day keep repeating.  More than once he wondered if he was stuck in purgatory and nothing he did would  _ ever _ make the day stop repeating.  Maybe he would be trapped forever in his twenty fourth birthday, doomed to never move forward.

 

When he finally made his way down to the rink again, all the other skaters were already there.  Emil spotted him from across the room and gave him an excited wave, the joyous grin on his face clear enough indication to what Mickey had said.  Yuuri waved back, then his smile faltered when he saw Victor watching him, a frown distressing his face.

 

Yuuri looked away, trying to focus on the task at hand.  Emil finished his skate with a record score for him, maintaining first place even after Seun Gil performed.  Then it was Yuuri's turn. He took the ice with no small amount of trepidation. If getting Emil and Mickey together had been what would get him out of the time loop, then his score would actually matter.  Still, he didn't feel anything like the crippling anxiety he'd felt the first time he'd done the program. There was some comfort in knowing that he'd done this before, had failed as badly as one could and had managed to survive it.  He landed every jump until the last one, when the flash of Victor's silver hair had caught his eye and he'd seen that hurt expression once more. An expression  _ Yuuri _ had put there.

 

He recovered from the fall quickly and finished the program, lacking his usual expression and flare.  But it was a solid performance, and he sat in first even after Leo skated. For the first time, he stood on the podium and accepted a medal.  Third place was nothing to sneeze at, and it meant that he would qualify for the GPF. Yes, this had to be it. Everything had fallen into place.

 

He told himself that over and over again, even as he watched Victor plaster a fake smile on for the cameras, and leave the ice dejectedly.  Even as his heart ached for the pain he was causing the man he respected more than any other. But if everything went the way he wanted, he would have a chance to apologize the following day at the exhibition skate.  He could make it up to Victor.

 

That night, he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling.  He tried to will himself to sleep. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he could wake up and see if it had worked.  The sooner he could move on with his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Four**

 

_ Dancing queen, young and sweet, only- _

 

Yuuri jolted awake, snatched the phone, pressed the snooze button three times before it finally registered, and pulled up the calendar.

 

Friday, November 24 th .   _ Again. _

 

He flopped back in bed and debated staying there all day, just because he could.  Twenty minutes later, he got up and stomped off to the shower. There was no way he was going to be able to stay in bed.  He cursed the over-scented soap and scratchy towels. He glared at the receptionist who cheerily wished him good morning while pouring a cup of hot coffee.  He actually shook his fist at the sun that was rising steadily across the morning sky. 

 

Victor cleared his throat pointedly and smirked.  “Rough morning?” he asked.

 

“You have no idea,” Yuuri growled.

 

“I bet some coffee would cheer you right up.  There's a cafe-”

 

“Just up the street, I know.”  Yuuri sighed and Victor looked crestfallen.  Instead of trying to explain his mood, Yuuri tugged at the strap of Victor's bag.  “Come on, it'll be another few minutes until the other skaters get to the rink anyway.”

 

Victor grinned and slung his arm around Yuuri's shoulders as they walked.  “Talking about the other skaters already, Yuuri? You'll make me jealous.” He winked.

 

“You're a shameless tease, you know that?”  Yuuri shot him a sidelong glance.

 

“You're one to talk.”

 

“I'm being serious.  Does any of it mean anything to you, or do you just act this way with everyone?”  

 

Victor let his bag fall to the floor beside his chair and sank into the seat.  “I guess you're the jealous one then,” he murmured. Yuuri glared at him. “I'm not sure what you want me to say.  I act how I please. Maybe that's selfish or callous, but it's the way I am.” The waiter brought them coffee and Yuuri set about doctoring his.

 

“You can do whatever you want,” he muttered.  “I just don't understand how you can be so casual with me.  If you're like that with everyone, then no one is ever special to you.  It doesn't seem fair to you or anyone else.”

 

“Maybe it seems that way because you don't know me very well, but I'm actually  _ not _ like this with everyone else.  And even if I was,  _ I'm _ not the one who came on strong and then fucked off back to Japan without even a goodbye!”  Victor had risen from his seat, his voice rising along with the rest of him. “So you can just drink your coffee by yourself, since you're apparently not special to me.  How's that for fair?” He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the cafe.

 

Yuuri sat staring after him for several long moments, wondering what the hell had just happened.  When had he _come_ _on_ _strong_ and 'fucked off back to Japan'?  Yes, Yuuri had been rather testy, but what on earth had he done to deserve such ire from Victor?

 

Despite the fight, Yuuri actually felt a little better for the confrontation.  Hearing Victor say that he didn't act so casually with everyone, that it was Yuuri specifically it was directed at, was a comfort.  Since Victor had only ever been welcoming and friendly with him, Yuuri had begun to assume that Victor was just that way all the time.  And he'd been right earlier, it had indeed made Yuuri jealous.

 

At the rink Victor purposely skated away from him.  Yuuri gave a halfhearted attempt at getting Seun Gil to open up before setting his sights on Leo de la Iglesia.  The American skater was extremely outgoing and friendly. They spent the morning practicing together and Yuuri offered to buy him lunch.  Victor's glare had melted into a grimace as they left the rink.

 

No matter how deeply he probed, Yuuri couldn't find a single piece of unfinished business in Leo's life.  He was an extraordinarily happy person, confident in himself but not cocky, satisfied with his relationships.  He loved music, his friends, and his career. Yes, he wished he could spend more time with a Chinese skater he'd befriended a few years before, but he also understood that with both of them busy for their respective careers, they just had to make due with most of their socializing being over the phone or internet.  Aside from that, he didn't have any complaints to speak of.

 

After lunch they went back to the rink.  Leo was ecstatic to share his favorite songs with Yuuri, to talk about how much the music influenced his skating.  His happiness was infectious, and Yuuri found himself becoming as uplifted by the lyrics as Leo. He began to wonder if, rather than him fixing something wrong with Leo's life, it wasn't  _ Leo _ who was meant to be teaching  _ Yuuri _ something.  There was a lot to be learned from the upbeat teenager.

 

That kind of happiness was something that had been missing from his life for far too long, if he'd ever had it at all.

 

Before the competition began, they wished each other luck and parted ways.  Victor, who'd been watching them, walked over. “Are you trying to make me jealous, now?” he asked casually.

 

“Huh?”  Yuuri flushed at how close Victor was standing.

 

“Was that some sort of punishment for snapping at you this morning?  Flirting with that boy all day in front of me?” There was equal measures amusement and flint in Victor's voice.  Yuuri started to take a step back and put some space between them but was brought up short by the wall.

 

“Uh, no?  I wasn't flirting with him.  I was getting to know him. Making friends.”

 

“Friends.  Is that what you want, Yuuri?  More friends?” Victor leaned in, close enough that his lips brushed against Yuuri's ear.  Yuuri shivered, his body tensing in a kind of terrifying, thrilling anticipation. “Because I thought that you were suggesting more than that, last time we met.”

 

“I... I-”  Yuuri's head was spinning, his mind refusing to form any coherent thoughts with Victor so close.  He couldn't make sense of what Victor was saying. “L-last time we met?”

 

“Mm, at the banquet.  You were quite... suggestive.  Not that I'm complaining. But now I get the chance to talk to you again, and you seem totally different.”  Victor nipped at the shell of Yuuri's ear. Oh god, had he just moaned? He needed space, needed to be able to think-  “Why didn't you ever call me, Yuuri?”

 

Victor leaned away so that he could look at Yuuri's face.  The distance let him clear his head a little, let him process Victor's huskily whispered words.  The banquet. Suggestive – as if he could ever be suggestive. Acting totally different. It all came together in a muddled mathematical problem that added up to one awful answer.  Victor was confusing him with someone else. It made sense, of course. Why else would Victor have been so willing to talk to him, to spend time with him, the last few days? He hadn't even remembered JJ's name, despite the fact that they'd skated together multiple times before.  What difference would one more forgettable competitor make?

 

Yuuri's stomach clenched painfully as he realized that meant there was someone else out there, someone who had been  _ suggestive _ , who had  _ come on strong _ , who Victor wanted to pursue.  Someone else whose ear he wanted to nibble on.  He pushed hard at Victor's chest until he was forced to step back.

 

“You're confusing me with someone else,” he said bitterly.  “I've never even had a real conversation with you before this whole mess.”  He tried to walk past him, but Victor caught his arm.

 

“How could I  _ possibly _ confuse you with anyone else?” he demanded.  “You are  _ unforgettable _ , Yuuri.”

 

“Apparently, I am.  I need to go, I'm up next.”

 

“Yuuri, wait-”  Victor followed as Yuuri started toward the rink.  “I can prove it to you!” He called the words as Yuuri skated to the middle of the ice.  Prove it? How? Did he have a tape recording of the conversation he'd had with the man he was confusing Yuuri for?  A note in handwriting that certainly wouldn't match Yuuri's? Had he made a recording of him and that other man – he swallowed hard – having sex?  No matter what the 'proof' was, Yuuri didn't want to see it. Didn't want to even  _ think _ about it.

 

Instead, he focused on the day he'd spent with Leo.  On how the teen had shared his love of music, had talked about finding happiness in the lyrics of a song, in getting serenity from the melody.  As Yuuri listened to the song he'd chosen for his free skate, he realized that he lacked that kind of connection Leo had talked about. He liked the song, but it didn't speak to him, didn't move him.  That was something he ought to change. It was rare for skaters to switch programs mid season, but it wasn't totally unheard of. Perhaps he needed to choreograph a new routine. Choose a song that meant something to him, skate to it in a way that expressed his true feelings.

 

He finished fourth, and left before the award ceremony, ignoring the looks Victor kept giving him.

 

Back at the hotel, he didn't bother to pack his bag.  Despite how enlightening his day with Leo was, he didn't think it had been enough to change things.  He had very little hope that it would be Saturday when he woke up. Instead of thinking of what more he needed to try and do differently, Yuuri's mind kept wandering back to whoever it was Victor thought he was.  A small, terrible part of him thought of how easy it would be to pretend. It might take Victor a long time to figure out the truth. If the days kept repeating, he might never figure it out at all. Yuuri could just keep pretending, could take Victor away from the rink and all the others, could do what they'd done the third day, except stay far away from any cars.  If his interest stayed the same as it had been that day, Yuuri could go to bed with him...

 

No, that was too wrong, even to imagine.  He wasn't going to sleep with Victor under false pretenses.  The very idea of it chilled him. When he woke up in this hellish day again, he was going to totally ignore Victor.  He'd try getting another skater to open up to him and see if there was something that needed fixed. His last thought before he fell asleep was a fervent hope that he could get through to Seun Gil, because if he didn't, that just left JJ.


	6. Chapter 6

**Five**

 

Yuuri turned off the alarm without even looking at his phone's screen.  He didn't want to look. Didn't want to acknowledge that it had happened again.  He rose and dressed, ignoring the buzz of his phone signaling a text. There was always the possibility that it was someone else.  Or that it was his mother sending a different message. Checking to see when his flight was. He walked out with his bag on his shoulder anyway, and turned immediately towards the rink.  Waiting would mean that Victor might come along. Victor coming along at that exact time would mean that it was, indeed, still the 24 th .  But going into the rink meant that he still had another few minutes to hope otherwise.

 

He put on his skates mechanically and walked onto the ice.  Ten anxious minutes later, Victor walked in. He waved, but Yuuri could barely lift his hand in acknowledgment.  It still didn't mean anything for certain. Victor had won the night before. He might be there to practice his exhibition skate.  Yuuri stuffed his earphones in and slid to the far end of the rink, pretending to be busy working on a step sequence. He just wanted a few more minutes of hope.  Was that too much to ask?

 

JJ and Leo walked in, arguing loudly.  Yuuri's heart sank. There was no reason for JJ to practice, since he wouldn't have been in the exhibition.  Yuuri pulled out his phone and deleted the text his mother had sent that morning. The 24 th .  Of course it was.  He'd known all along, he just hadn't wanted to accept it.

 

Leo skated by and Yuuri raised his hand in greeting.  Leo looked over his shoulder, as if he expected the wave to be directed at someone else, then smiled a little and waved back.  A thread of hurt coursed through Yuuri, but he pushed it away. Of course Leo would be confused. He had no memory of their bonding the day before.  To him, it had never happened. They were little more than strangers.

 

“Listening to anything good?” he asked as Leo skated by.  Leo grinned.

 

“Always,” he replied.

 

Just then, Seun Gil and Emil walked in.  Yuuri returned Emil's greeting and then turned hopefully to Seun Gil.  If he could get the Korean to open up, he could put off trying to be friendly with JJ for another day, at least.  And he really would rather-

 

Seun Gil narrowed his eyes at Yuuri's enthusiastic wave.   “Er, hi Seun Gil,” Yuuri ventured. Seun Gil skated by him without a word.

 

Damn it.

 

JJ did a jump and landed precariously close to Leo, who flashed a rude gesture at him.  JJ just laughed and glided past. Yuuri fought the urge to roll his eyes and forced himself to skate over.  At first, JJ didn't even notice him, then he looked back and smirked.

 

“Looking for some tips, Katsuki?”

 

Yuuri took a deep breath and prayed for patience.  “Not particularly. Just wanted to say hello. See how you're doing.”

 

“Doing amazing, as always.  When you're as talented as me, those are the only kinds of days you have.”  He winked and brushed imaginary lint off his shoulder.

 

“Uh, sure.  Okay, so... you and... your fiance, I can't remember her name right off, you two doing good?”

 

JJ looked down at him condescendingly.  “You're an odd bird, Katsuki, you know that?”

 

“Thanks?”

 

“Just calling it how I see it,” JJ laughed.  “Isabella and I are fantastic, of course. The wedding's coming up, you know.  We'll tie the knot after I win the Grand Prix final.”

 

“That's confident of you.”

 

“With my skill I don't need confidence.  Talent and style will win me that gold metal.  After I win this one, that is.”

 

“Uh huh.”  Yuuri was quickly losing patience.  How was he supposed to talk to this enormous tool of a man?  They had nothing in common, no mutual interests to start a conversation about.  JJ was so arrogant that they couldn't even talk about skating, which should have been a big bonding point.  “Oh! I remember from last year that you said you were working with a band to come up with your song for this free skate.  How did that go?”

 

“I only created the  _ best song ever _ ,” JJ bragged.  “You'll get to hear it later.  Not just anyone can do a collaboration with a world famous band.  But my background in music with my own band made me a natural.”

 

“You're in a band?”

 

“JJ's Band.”

 

“What?”

 

“That's the name of the band, 'JJ's Band.”

 

“Of course it is,” Yuuri shook his head.  “I-I mean, neat name. Very... fitting.”

 

“I know!  Perfect name for the best band in the world.  Music has always been my passion, you know.” For the first time, JJ's voice had lost it's cockiness and sounded almost warm.

 

“Really?  What do you do in the band?”

 

“Lead vocals and guitar.  I write songs, too.”

 

“Wow, that sounds impressive.”

 

“It'll be more impressive once I find the time to really focus on it.  But of course skating has taken up most of my time for years now.”

 

“Does the music make you happier than skating?”  Yuuri asked, genuinely curious. 

 

“Happier?”  JJ paused as if he'd never considered the question before.  “I mean... skating is my career. It's what I've built my life around.  I'm the best at it.”

 

“But does that mean it makes you happier?”

 

“I've never really thought about it like that.”

 

And just like that, Yuuri knew how to draw out a man as insufferable as JJ.  He spent the rest of the morning asking questions about the band, about the songs JJ had written, about what kind of guitar he played.  Talking about the band seemed to bring out a whole different side of JJ. He was still arrogant, still tactless, but it was as if taking away the skater left behind a person who was actually tolerable.  

 

They managed two whole hours of conversation without Yuuri feeling the urge to roll his eyes.  Was it possible that JJ was only so awful because he was actually unsatisfied with his life? Perhaps being a skater was stifling him, keeping him from his true calling as a musician.  The more they talked, the more certain Yuuri became.

 

JJ was laughing about how much fun he'd had the last time his band had performed live, and the dance they had all done on stage.

 

“That sounds incredible.  I wish I had that kind of bravery.  I could never dance in front of a crowd like that.”

 

JJ laughed again, clapping Yuuri on the back.  “Good one!”

 

“Huh?  I'm serious.  I couldn't ever-”

 

“You?  Dancing King Katsuki?  You're trying to tell me you're shy?  I might have believed that before I saw you pole dancing last year.”

 

“Uh, pole dancing?”

 

“At the banquet.  After the Grand Prix.  You don't remember?”

 

“I... I remember trying to keep to myself, having more champagne than I should have... and then... nothing.”

 

“Well a lot more than that happened, let me tell you.”

 

“Oh, god, don't tell me I did something embarrassing.  Pole dancing?” He winced.

 

“And break dancing, and even ballroom dancing.  You did a Paso Doble and a tango with Nikiforov.  I've never seen him laugh like that. And I'd always thought he was some sort of robot before that night.”

 

Yuuri gasped.  Suddenly, a dozen little things Victor had said over the last several days fell into place.  Victor  _ hadn't _ confused him for someone else.   _ Yuuri _ was the man who'd come on strong and been suggestive.  He wasn't even sure how to process that.

 

Victor was watching the two of them from across the rink.  Yuuri felt his entire face heat with embarrassment. “Was I any good, at least?” he asked in a small voice.

 

JJ laughed.  “You won the dance off.  The little blonde from the junior division was furious about it.  And I think you impressed Giacometti with your skills on the pole.  He's the one who set the thing up. The two of you were damn near indecent on it!  I think everyone got at least one picture of you doing the most epic human flag ever.  I can't believe you don't remember it at all. Not even stripping.”

 

“S-stripping?”  Yuuri knew his blush was gone, because all the blood left his head in such a rush that he felt dizzy.

 

“Like a pro, right down to your boxers.”

 

Yuuri swore in every language he knew.  “I... I need to process all this,” he muttered.

 

“Hey, maybe at this year's banquet, I'll bring my guitar and we can  _ both _ put on a show!” JJ called after Yuuri as he skated towards the edge of the rink.  Yuuri gave him a weak wave and quickly unlaced his skates. He could barely get them off, his hands were shaking so badly.

 

“Are you alright?”  The soft, concerned voice came from directly above him.  Yuuri felt it like a caress. He looked up and saw Victor as if seeing him for the first time all over again.

 

“I- I'm...”

 

“Did that Canadian give you a hard time?  He seemed friendly enough for a while but then you got pale all of a sudden.”

 

“No, JJ didn't do anything.  I just... found out about something.  Something I did.”

 

Victor crouched down so that they were eye to eye.  “Well then it can't have been anything that bad. I doubt your sins are that grave.”

 

Yuuri scoffed.  “Maybe not a sin, but pretty damn close from the sounds of it.”  He smiled weakly at Victor, who rose and held out his hand to help Yuuri up as well.  “Why don't we go to lunch? All of a sudden we have a lot to talk about.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“There's a cafe just up the street, if you're game.”

 

“Lead the way,” Victor gestured magnanimously.  Yuuri felt himself warm and led them out to the now familiar cafe.  They ordered, and then sipped their drinks while the food was being prepared.  “I'm glad you invited me to lunch. I'd been meaning to ask you, actually.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Ah, well, I assumed.”  Yuuri reminded himself that Victor had no memory of all the 24ths they'd spent together.  Of all the times he'd invited Yuuri to that very cafe.

 

“I thought you would call me, you know.  I did give you my number.”

 

“About that...  I didn't actually remember that even happened.”

 

“That I gave you my number?  You could have looked me up on-”

 

“Any of it, I mean.  The banquet.”

 

“What?”  Victor set his glass down and gaped.  “You didn't remember... because of the alcohol?  I knew you were drunk, but I didn't think you were black out drunk.  You still danced so well...”

 

“Yeah, sorry about that.  JJ said that I did a Paso Doble and a tango with you?”

 

“You still don't remember them?”

 

Yuuri shook his head and Victor looked crestfallen.  “Then you don't remember asking me to coach you, either?”

 

Water came out Yuuri's nose as he choked on the drink he'd just taken.  “ _ What _ ?”

 

“I suppose that explains a lot.”

 

“I asked you... to coach me?”

 

Victor nodded.  “If you won the dance off.  Which, of course, you did. You even offered to have me for a visit at your family's resort, but then you never called.  I kept waiting for any sign at all that you still wanted me to come... but none ever came.”

 

“I can't believe I did that.  I can't believe... Victor, I'm so sorry.  Not only was it incredibly unprofessional of me to get drunk like that, but then to proposition you about coaching-”

 

“Don't apologize,” Victor said firmly.  “That was one of the best nights of my life.  I don't regret it at all, and I'll be incredibly disappointed if you do.”

 

“But... I acted so crudely.”

 

“Yuuri, I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone before.”  He paused while the waiter gave them their food, then looked Yuuri in the eyes.  “Before that night, I thought that I was content. I had my career, more success than any skater has a right to hope for, anything money can buy me.  But every win was starting to feel hollow, each gold medal just a little cheaper than the last. And then, out of the blue, this beautiful, uninhibited man comes dancing into my life and reminds me what it's like to have  _ fun _ .  I can't remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much, laughed so much.  You were like a breath of fresh air and I hadn't even realized I was drowning.

 

“I'll admit I was shocked when you asked me to be your coach, but the idea excited me.  It would be something new, something different. You have so much potential, Yuuri. With the right kind of encouragement, you could be  _ phenomenal _ .  I wanted, I  _ still _ want, to be the one to draw that out.”

 

“A-are you saying that you'd be willing to coach me?”

 

Victor nodded.  Yuuri felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head and roll across the table.  He couldn't believe Victor had called him  _ beautiful _ , had said he had  _ potential _ , was agreeing to  _ coach _ him.

 

“If you'd still want me to, of course.”

 

“Y-yes!  Yes, I do!  I mean, I would love that.  But, can you do that? What about your own career?”

 

Victor shrugged casually, as if it didn't really matter.  “I was thinking of retiring after this season.” At Yuuri's horrified gasp, he chuckled.  “Or maybe I'll try my hand at coaching and skating at the same time. Who knows?”

 

“Ohmygod,” Yuuri let out a sharp breath and put his hands on either side of his face to make sure he was actually still there.  “I can't believe this. It's like... it's a dream come true.”

 

“That makes for two of us.  And Yuuri...” Victor reached across the table and ran his long fingers over Yuuri's knuckles.  “I'd like for us to be more than just student and coach.”

 

“You... do?”  Yuuri felt his face flame as Victor began to trace patterns on the back of his hand.  Suddenly, he had a vivid memory of Victor from the day they'd eaten  _ katsudon _ .  How heated things had gotten.  

 

“I'll be any role you'd like me in, Yuuri.  Just say it and it's yours. A father figure?”

 

“N-no-”

 

“A brother, or just a friend?”

 

“I...”

 

“Your lover then?”  Their eyes met and Yuuri felt as if his brain had literally frozen.  Tantalizing fantasies danced before his eyes, each more vivid than the last.  He had to shake his head to clear them away.

 

“I- I just want you to be yourself!  You don't have to try and play a part.  Just be you and I'll be happy.”

 

Victor looked thunderstruck.  The silence stretched between them, pregnant with intensity.  Then, he smiled. It was a crooked smile, half cocked and off center.  It was the most beautiful thing Yuuri had ever seen. “Alright, then. You've got a deal.  I'm yours, Yuuri Katsuki, just as I am.”

 

Warmth filled Yuuri's chest until he felt as if heat might start rolling off of him in waves.  He couldn't have asked for anything more in that moment. His hand turned under Victor's, and he laced their fingers together, squeezing them tightly.  Then he pulled away and picked up his sandwich with a grin so big his cheeks almost hurt.

 

“So... have you already seen my free skate program this year?”  Victor finished the bite he'd just taken of his food and looked a little... bashful.

 

“Of course.  It's an amazing piece.  Very intense.”

 

“It's about you, you know.”

 

“Me?”

 

“About the night of the banquet.  The mysterious playboy arrives and sweeps me off my feet, we spend a passionate night together, and then he casts me aside and moves on.  A very compelling story, if I do say so myself.” He fidgeted with his napkin, as if he wasn't sure how to expect Yuuri to react.

 

“Me, a playboy?”  Yuuri laughed at the absurdity of it.  Victor chuckled along.

 

“Well, now it seems a little unsuited to you, but not that night.  You were eros personified, seducing me with your dancing and making everyone in the room that night jealous that it was  _ me _ you wrapped your arms around.”

 

Yuuri buried his face in his hands.  “I still can't believe I did that.”

 

“I have the pictures and even a video to prove it, if you want your memory jogged,” Victor said with a knowing smile.

 

“You have... of course you do.  I'm not sure I can handle seeing them.  I'm a sensitive soul and they might be more humiliating than I can bear.”

 

“Well I'm not going to force you to look, but none of them are humiliating in the least.  They might not all capture your most flattering angle, but they are all very good. Especially the ones where you're using Chris as a support on the pole while you bend over backw-”

 

“No no no, don't want to hear any more,” Yuuri put his hands over his ears and shook his head.  Victor laughed.

 

“Fine, fine.  Come on, let's get back to the rink.  I'll skate my program for tonight so you can watch my interpretation of that night.”  He winked and held out his hand for Yuuri. Still blushing, Yuuri took it and let himself be led back to the rink.

 

Victor skated his free program, and now that Yuuri knew the inspiration behind it, he could see the story so clearly.  Victor's skating painted the tale perfectly. The only part that Yuuri still couldn't quite believe was that  _ he _ was the  _ playboy _ of the piece.  The handsome stranger who swept into town and seduced the most beautiful dancer on the floor.  When Victor got the part where Yuuri left and didn't return, he could almost feel Victor's confusion and self doubt.  How much he'd longed for a sign, anything at all, that said their night together had meant something. The music grew more and more intense until right at the end.  Every time Yuuri had seen videos of Victor performing it, he ended with a dramatic collapse onto the ice, head bowed in defeat. This time, though, at the final note, Victor leapt.  He did a quad flip and landed facing Yuuri, his arms outstretched as if reaching towards the future.

 

The crowd erupted into cheers.  Yuuri was perhaps the loudest of them all.

 

Later, after Victor and Yuuri had been given their medals, they stood together beside the rink.  Victor reached down to grip Yuuri's hand. “This is the start of something wonderful, Yuuri. I can feel it.”

 

“I hope it is,” Yuuri whispered.  “You're not going to understand this, but what I want more than anything right now is to never repeat this day again.  I want to wake up tomorrow and have it be Saturday, and then Sunday, and then on and on for the rest of our lives.”

 

“You know,” Victor raised their joined hands and kissed Yuuri's knuckles.  “That almost sounded like a marriage proposal. Albeit a strange one.” They stared at each other for a poignant moment, then laughed together.

 

Eventually, they parted, each heading back to their hotels.  Yuuri couldn't see how the day could have gone any better. He'd discovered the reason Victor had been watching him, and had somehow managed to get him to agree to coach him.  He'd placed second in the competition, which meant he was guaranteed a spot at the GPF. There wasn't anything more he could have possibly wished for.

 

Determined to be optimistic, Yuuri packed his bag and set it by the door.  Then he crawled under the ugly burgundy comforter and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Six**

 

_ Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!  Dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine, oooh yeah!  You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life- _

 

Yuuri pushed the snooze button and then squeezed his eyes shut again.  He didn't want to look. Didn't want to look.... he cracked one eye open and cursed.  Loudly. He threw the pillow beneath his head across the room. He pounded the mattress with his fists and feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum.  It didn't change anything. It was still the 24 th of November.

 

Furious, he threw on clothes and only grabbed his glasses and wallet, leaving his bags behind.  He stormed down through the hotel and then out onto the sidewalk. Half a block north he spotted Victor's silver hair glinting in the morning sunlight.  Yuuri marched right up to him, took Victor's shocked face between his hands, and kissed him full on the mouth. Victor stood frozen for two and a half seconds before dropping his bag and wrapping his arms around Yuuri's shoulders.

 

They kissed madly, desperately, deeply.  By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for breath.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor purred, “that was... well that was unexpected.  May I know to what I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I've wanted to do that since I was a teenager.  And you're not going to remember it in the morning, so what the hell.”

 

“Not going to rem- Yuuri, if you think a kiss like that is even remotely possible to forget, you're gravely mistaken.  I'll be telling my great grandchildren about that kiss on my deathbed.” He grinned.

 

“No, you won't.  Because nothing ever goes forward, and this day never fucking ends.  But that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy it. Do you have your ID with you?”

 

“Ah, yes?”  Victor looked more and more confused by the moment.

 

“Good.  I think we need it to get on the train.  Come on.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“You're going to take me to St Petersburg.  I've always wanted to see where you live.”

 

“Wha- we can't go  _ now _ .  We have the free skate tonight.”

 

“That damn free skate is  _ every _ night!  Don't you see, Victor?  We're stuck in a loop that there's no way to break out of.  So why bother putting ourselves through it? Why not just enjoy the time we have together and be grateful for it?”

 

Victor studied him for several minutes in silence, as if trying to see the deeper meaning behind his words.  Finally, he nodded. “You're right. Let's go. Wherever you want, Yuuri.”

 

In that moment, Yuuri loved Victor more than he'd ever loved another living soul.  Because Victor didn't have the memories of the time they'd already shared together except the banquet.  And still, he was willing to leave everything behind and follow Yuuri just like that. He had no real idea what Yuuri was even talking about.  Probably thought it was a giant metaphor about their careers or the pressure of skating. But that didn't matter to him. If Yuuri was going, then he would go too.

 

Yuuri kissed him again, took his hand, and together they went to the train station.

 

On the train, Yuuri asked Victor about his childhood.  About his parents before they'd passed away, about the dogs he'd raised, about the lovers he'd had.  Victor spoke as if a damn had broken. It was like every mundane detail of his life had been stored up behind the wall of his skating career and for the first time, they were flowing free, crashing to the fore and spilling out of him at breakneck speed.

 

Yuuri learned so much, not about Victor Nikiforov, the man he'd idolized, but about just Victor, an impulsive, quirky man who still believed in old-fashioned romance.  By the time they arrived in St Petersburg that afternoon, Yuuri and Victor were practically on top of each other, wanting to be as close as physically possible. Eager as children, they went into the city.  Victor showed Yuuri his home rink, his favorite restaurant, and the shop that made the best coffee in town. They went to the kennel and picked up Victor's dog. Makkachin greeted Yuuri like an old friend, licking his face and barking happily.  Then they went to Victor's apartment.

 

They snuggled together on the couch, discussing philosophy, religion, movies, books, anything they could think of.  Their lips met at regular intervals, the kisses deep and unhurried. By the time the sky had grown dark, Yuuri was laying on Victor's bare chest while they ate pretzels and sipped icy vodka.

 

“I wish you were going to remember this tomorrow,” Yuuri whispered.

 

“You said something like that before,  _ moya lyubov _ , but you don't seem to believe me when I say that there is no way I could ever forget this.  No matter how much vodka we drink.”

 

“You don't understand.  It's not the liquor. You won't  _ forget _ , it just won't have happened for you.  You'll wake up tomorrow and it'll be Friday the 24 th , and you'll go about your day without any memory of this at all.”

 

“Yuuri-”

 

“No!  I know it sounds crazy, but it's been happening over and over again.  I've relived this day more than half a dozen times now. It just keeps repeating, no matter what I do.”

 

“I... Yuuri, I don't understand.  You're not making any sense.”

 

“I know.  If I was you I wouldn't believe me either.  But it doesn't matter if you think I'm crazy, because even if you hate me by tonight you'll be totally reset by morning.  So none of this even matters.”

 

There was a long silence, and Yuuri almost feared Victor was going to throw him out, or call him a lunatic.  Instead, he pushed Yuuri back until their faces were level. “If that's true, then why come here with me? Why spend all this time talking to me and getting to know me and being with me?  You could do anything at all.”

 

“ _ You _ won't remember, but  _ I _ will.  When I wake up in the morning, I'll still know your favorite color is green and that you hate pickled beets.  I'll have the memory of holding you like this, the knowledge of what your chest looks like in the moonlight. I wouldn't trade those things for anything else in the world.”

 

Victor brushed Yuuri's hair from his eyes and then cupped his cheek.  “I may not understand what's going on, but if you really believe what you're saying is true, then that's the most beautiful compliment anyone has ever paid me.”  

  
They fell asleep holding each other, basking in the warmth of mutual adoration.   _ Tomorrow, _ Yuuri thought as he drifted off,  _ I'm going to choreograph a program about this feeling _ .


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone confused, the number in bold at the beginning of each chapter is the tally of how many times Yuuri has repeated the day. So day ten is ten days after the initial 24th. We are starting to skip along days now, so be sure you see what number day it is to know how much time has passed!

**Ten**

 

Yuuri decided to change the step sequence around so that it was just after the jump instead of before.  It flowed better with the music that way. The song Leo had helped him pick out three days before had a beautiful piano body, and it deserved to be highlighted.  At lunch, he took Victor to the cafe and ordered him the sandwich he liked best. They talked about TV shows this time, which ones they'd loved as kids and which they binge watched as adults.  There was a surprising amount of crossover between Japanese and Russian shows, particularly ones that had been translated into English.

 

After lunch, Yuuri made a brief attempt to get Seung Gil to open up to him, then went back to working on his new program.  That night, he skated the old on at the competition, and because there was no pressure, no reason to be anxious about how he did, he landed all of his jumps and even added a few extra ones at the end, just to show off his stamina.  He beat Victor by three points. Victor cheered louder than anyone else when the gold medal was put around Yuuri's neck.

 

They had drinks to celebrate after, and even though he knew it didn't count, didn't mean anything, Yuuri still felt a swell of pride in himself for being able to, not only stand on the same ice as Victor, but beat him.

 

He walked Victor back to his hotel, then slowly meandered to his own.  He wondered if maybe he shouldn't ask Victor to come back with him, next time.  While he was still debating the issue with himself, a small sound caught his attention.  Down the hall from his room there was a little girl standing in a corner crying. Yuuri went over to her slowly, careful not to startle or scare her.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.  She shook her head and cried harder. “Are you hurt?”

 

“N-no.”

 

“Where are your mommy and daddy?”

 

“I d-don't knoooo-” the last word ended in a wail.  

 

“Oh, that's ok, it's alright now.  We'll find them. Are you staying in this hotel?”  The little girl nodded. “Do you know what room you were in?”

 

“No.”  She sniffled.

 

“Alright, let's go down to the front desk and see if they can tell us your room number from your name.  What's your name?”

 

“Ana.”

 

“Good.  Ana, do you know your last name?”

 

“Garinn.”

 

“That's perfect.  Let's go tell that to the man at the desk and see if he can find your room, okay?”

 

“O-okay.”  She put her little hand in Yuuri's and they started toward the elevator.  

 

“Can you tell me how you got lost?”

 

“I was supposed to stay close to Mommy, but I got distracted by the mirror in the elevator, and when I looked up again, the doors were closed and it was moving again.  I tried to push the buttons and make it go back down, but all the halls look the same and I got lost.” She sniffled again and tucked her face into Yuuri's shirt. He picked her up and rubbed her back softly.

 

“It's okay now, you're alright.  We'll find your Mommy, I promise.”  Ana clung to Yuuri all the way down to the reception desk.  It was obvious as soon as they stepped into the lobby that the girl's mother had been looking for her.  The receptionist straightened up and alerted two others.

 

“Ana?” he asked tentatively.  The little girl nodded. “Thank the lord.  Mya, call Phillipe's cell phone, he's the one with her mother.  Tell them we found her.”

 

Five minutes later a sobbing woman sprinted into the lobby and clutched the girl to her chest.  Many tears and thanks later, Yuuri finally made it back to his room. He checked the time and subtracted half an hour, then memorized it so that he would be able to find the girl again the next night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Twenty three**

 

The new program was coming along nicely.  It still needed polishing, but he was happy with its structure and flow.  The jumps were ambitious, but nothing he couldn't handle, especially since his confidence had skyrocketed from being stuck in the loop.  No consequences meant no pressure. He could mess up as badly as possible and he still got a clean slate the next day. It was a miserable existence, certainly, but it did wonders for the anxiety.  He'd broken his leg during the competition a week ago, and the next morning it was as if it had never happened.

 

When he was out of breath and his body was aching, he decided to quit practicing and take yet another crack at Seun Gil.  Not once in any of the days he'd been stuck on the 24 th , had he managed to get more than two sentences out of the man.

 

“Alright, I give up,” he exclaimed when he caught up to Seun Gil in the locker room.  “What would it take to get your attention?” Seun Gil looked up, surprised, then away.  “No, I mean it. I'm not letting you leave this room until you tell me one thing about yourself.”  Their eyes met, testing each other's resolve. Finally, Seun Gil shrugged.

 

“I'm a figure skater from Korea.  That's two things.”

 

“Doesn't count,” Yuuri snapped.  “Something I don't already know.”

 

“I have no idea what you do already know, so I can't guarantee that.”  He tried to walk out, but Yuuri blocked his way.

 

“Uh uh, not letting you leave.  Come on, give me something. Anything.”

 

Seun Gil snarled in frustration, unable to get past without trying to tackle Yuuri to the ground.  “I have a husky named Soo Yeon. There, is that enough?” he demanded. Yuuri smiled.

 

“A dog, huh?  See that wasn't so hard.  Now what about your family?”

 

“You said one thing.  Get the hell out of my way now.”

 

He looked so angry that Yuuri finally moved.  It wasn't much, but it was a start. Smiling still, Yuuri went back to the rink to invite Victor to dinner.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thirty**

 

Talking to Seun Gil was like trying to pull teeth.  Five days of continuous work and Yuuri still couldn't get more than a basic greeting.  He asked about dogs, thinking that might open him up about his own, but no. Family, too, seemed to be a dead end.  Seun Gil went absolutely silent when family was brought up. Eventually, Yuuri gave up actively trying to draw him into conversation and began just talking to him.  Seun Gil always stayed at the rink for a late lunch, eating in a small, empty conference room. Yuuri would join him and ramble about whatever was on his mind. It didn't matter if it even made sense, because Seun Gil never acknowledged it, and it wasn't as if he would remember it even if Yuuri made a fool of himself.

 

“I think I'm falling in love with Victor,” he said, plopping himself down on the chair next to Seun Gil's with a sigh.  He'd just gotten back from lunch with Victor, and it was becoming impossible to deny. Seun Gil frowned at him. “Okay, okay, I loved him before, but in a different way, you know?  I loved him as an idol. As this untouchable figure who drove my ambitions. But now I  _ know _ him.  And he's not just this distant star any more.  He's a flesh and blood man, flaws and all. Which makes me like him all the more.  I never expected that. The craziest thing is, he seems to feel the same way about me.”

 

Seun Gil paused his chewing.  “Oh, not that he likes me more as a man than an idol – it's not like someone like me could ever be an idol to someone like him.  I mean that I honestly think he's falling in love with me. It's absolutely insane, right? He's talented and gorgeous and rich and charismatic and he could have anyone in the whole world, but for some reason he seems to want me.  Even knowing that I'm not actually some overtly sexual playboy like he thought at the banquet, he still seems to  _ like _ me, to want to be with me.  What am I supposed to even  _ do _ with that?”  Yuuri took a drink of his water and shook his head, still awed by it.

 

“You'd be an idiot if you didn't grab onto it with both hands and never let go.”

 

“Huh?”  Yuuri's head whipped around so fast that he nearly dropped his drink.  

 

“You heard me.”

 

“I did- I mean, yeah, I'm just surprised you...”  He stopped rambling and tried to figure out a way to open Seun Gil up more.  “What makes you say that?”

 

“It's obvious.”

 

“Not to me.  There are so many things that could go wrong.  And what if-”

 

“Nothing in life is guaranteed,” Seun Gil interrupted.  “There are always 'what ifs'. Using that as an excuse not to take chances just makes you a coward.”

 

“Er, I guess that's true.”

 

“Of course it is.  Now leave me alone.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Thirty seven**

 

Yuuri felt like a miner, extracting information from Seun Gil one tiny morsel at a time.  But his persistence paid off. He learned that the Korean was a math genius and could calculate his jump scores down to a tenth of a point in his head.  He learned that, though he would never admit it in so many words, Seun Gil was afraid of women. They confused him and surprised him, and he hated being surprised.

 

At first, Yuuri had thought that perhaps what he needed was to overcome his fear of women, but the more he got to know Seun Gil, the more he suspected the man was asexual.  So if that wasn't the problem, what was?

 

Since using him as a sounding board seemed to have garnered the best results in the past, Yuuri pulled up the chair next to Seun Gil as he ate and propped his feet up.

 

“If you get married, and no one knows, and then the person you're married to forgets about it, does it still count as a real marriage?”

 

Seun Gil swore in Korean and threw down his chopsticks.  “What the hell are you rambling about?”

 

“Victor, of course,” Yuuri waved his hand negligently.  “I bet if I asked him to elope with me, he'd do it. Not here, obviously, but we could probably catch a plane to France or Sweden.  No one would even know. But I'm not sure it would even be worth it.”

 

“Nikiforov might be a forgetful person, but no way would he forget getting  _ married _ .”

 

“You'd be surprised.”

 

“It's a foolish idea, anyways.  Tying yourself to one person for the rest of your life.  You have no idea who they will be in ten years, who  _ you _ will be in ten years.  So why make a hollow promise and have it made legally binding?”

 

“Y-you don't believe in marriage then?”

 

“It's an archaic institution.  Marriage, especially arranged marriage, is the antithesis of what-”

 

“Arranged marriage?”  Yuuri sat up, wondering if he'd finally gotten the last piece of the puzzle.  “Are you being set up for an arranged marriage, Seun Gil?”

 

“Not that it's any of your business, but yes.  At least, they're trying.”

 

“But you don't want to get married that way.”

 

“I don't want to get married  _ at all _ .  The fact that I barely know the woman has little bearing on the matter.”

 

“Have you told your parents that?”

 

“They know my feelings about it.”

 

“And they are still trying to make you?”  Seun Gil's silence was answer enough. “Well, you're an adult, so it's not as if they can really force you.”  His words were met with an icy glare.

 

“I would think, being Japanese, you would understand the situation better than that.  My father is the head of the family. It is my duty as his son to do as he wishes.”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“There are no buts.  It's just a matter of time.”  He pushed away from the table and stood abruptly.

 

“Seun Gil, wait!”  Yuuri rose as well, searching for the right words, or any words at all.  “You can't just give up. There's always an answer. It's just like a math problem that needs to be solved.  All you need is the right variables.”

 

Seun Gil paused for a moment as if considering, then left the room without another word.  Yuuri wished he knew what else he could say. Unlike Emil and JJ's problems, he didn't think this could be solved with a few pieces of advice.  Perhaps the only thing he  _ could _ offer was support and friendship.  The problem was, any rapport he built with Seun Gil was lost at the end of the day.  He had to start fresh gaining the other man's trust and getting him to open up. How was it possible to make any headway?

 

Frustrated, Yuuri went back to the rink to find Victor.


	12. Chapter 12

**Forty two**

 

_ You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!  Dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine, ooh yeah! You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life oooh see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen! _

 

Yuuri didn't bother to turn off the alarm.  He didn't move, didn't open his eyes. Maybe if he just ignored the world, it would go away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Forty three**

 

_ Danc- _

 

Yuuri turned off the alarm and immediately leaped out of bed.  He tossed on clothes and then hurried up to the tenth floor of the hotel in time to catch a housekeeper just as she fell backwards off a ladder while trying to change a light bulb.  Then he stopped by the vending machine in the lobby to get a bottle of cold water and handed it to the receptionist as he burned his tongue on hot coffee.

 

Out on the sidewalk, he took the arm of a little old lady trying to cross the street and helped her get to the other side, ignoring her confusion when he greeted her by her name and asked about her grandkids.  Victor came into view and Yuuri kissed him on the cheek in greeting.

 

“Good morning, Vitya.”  He looped his arm through Victor's and started heading towards the cafe.

 

“Oh!  Good morning, Yuuri!”  Victor blushed and looked down at their joined arms.  “So bold of you.”

 

“Not really.”

 

“It's not that I'm complaining,” Victor assured with a smile.  “I do like surprises.”

 

“I know.”  Despite the fact that he'd heard it dozens of times before, Yuuri still smiled.  Victor was the only thing that made this whole mess bearable. Sweet, wonderful Victor who always welcomed him with open arms, who supported him, who showered him with affection.  Victor Nikiforov, who Yuuri had fallen totally and helplessly in love with. “Let's walk just a little faster,” he urged. Victor went along willingly, and they walked into the cafe just in time for Yuuri to catch the loaded tray a waiter had started to drop.  He steadied it and handed it back to the grateful server.

 

“Yuuri, that was incredible!”  

 

Yuuri shrugged and led them to their table.  They sipped coffee and Yuuri listened to Victor tell him for the umpteenth time that he'd been wanting to talk to him for a while.  That he'd watched him since the banquet. Yuuri didn't care that he'd heard it before. He was happy to sit and listen to Victor talk.  On the way to the rink he had Victor help him memorize more Russian, surprising the man with what he already knew – what Victor had, in fact, already taught him from days before.  

 

He sent Victor off to start practicing while Yuuri went to talk to Emil.  In a few minutes, he had convinced the Czech skater to call and confess his feelings to Mickey.  Then, he went over to JJ and ignored his tactless greeting, reminding himself that JJ was actually a good person under the cocky facade.  He urged JJ to pursue his music and then drew Leo into the conversation so that the two of them could discuss songs.

 

Victor laughed at his matchmaking, and they skated together until lunch.  After they ate, Yuuri rounded up the other skaters and brought them all into the little conference room where Seun Gil was trying to eat his lunch in peace.  When Seun Gil tried to get up to leave, Yuuri smoothly cut off his retreat and drew him into reluctant conversation. No one beside the two of them knew what Seun Gil's troubles were, but they didn't need to.  With a little encouragement from Yuuri they showed him their support. Little by little, Seun Gil thawed to them.

 

As he and Victor walked to the locker room after dinner, Yuuri offered a band aid to a lady who'd just cut her finger.  He gave a new lace to Emil when his fraying one broke. When it was his turn to skate, he flew through his program effortlessly.  After the awards ceremony, he walked Victor back to his hotel and then made it up to his own hotel in time to return Ana to her mother.  

 

Lying in bed, he wondered what more he could possibly expect from a day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fifty eight**

 

_ Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!  Dancing queen, feel the beat- _

 

Yuuri turned off the alarm, then scrolled through the playlists on his phone until he found that song.  He put it on repeat, turned the volume on his phone up as loud as it would go, and left his room in nothing but his shorts and socks.  His stocking feet slid across the glossy lobby floor as he sang at the top of his lungs, using the phone as a microphone.

 

The receptionist gasped.  The guests who were always loitering by the front desk stopped and stared.  Yuuri ignored them.

 

“ _ You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life!” _  Yuuri spun in a circle and then did a triple axel.  When he landed, he saw Victor through the glass double doors.  In a flash, he barreled out onto the side walk, grabbed a flabbergasted Victor's arm, and pulled him into the lobby for a dance.  “ _ You're a teaser, you turn 'em on, leave 'em burning and then you're gone- _ ”

 

“Yuuri, what are you-”

 

“ _ You're in the mood for love! _ ”  Yuuri ignored Victor's confused protests and dipped him, then spun him out and swung him up into a superman lift.

 

“Yu-uri!” Victor's admonishment was broken by a bubble of laughter.  Yuuri slid sideways and dramatically serenaded Victor. By the end of the verse, Victor had given up.  He joined in, instead, and the two of them finished the song together.

  
“ _ See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen! Dig in the dancing queeeeeeen!” _


	15. Chapter 15

**Eighty one**

 

Yuuri opened his eyes before the alarm went off.  Well, that was new. Still, he wasn't surprised to see Friday, November 24 th on his phone.  He turned off the alarm so that for the first time in months, he wouldn't start his day with ABBA.  It actually felt a little strange not to hear the peppy disco first thing in the morning. Instead, he scrolled through his phone and put on the song he'd chosen for the new free skate program he'd created.  There were no lyrics, but he hummed along as he showered and dressed. He answered the text from his mother, caught the falling housekeeper, handed off the bottle of water, helped Agatha across the street, and met Victor on the sidewalk.

 

_ “Dobroye utro krasavitsa _ ,” he greeted.  Then he smiled as he watched Victor's face morph quickly from surprise, to affection and then to shock as he realized that Yuuri had just told him, 'good morning, beautiful,' in his native tongue.

 

“I didn't know you spoke Russian,” Victor gushed happily.  Yuuri wrapped his arm around Victor's waist and began leading them to the cafe.

 

“I learned for you.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Yes.  And I had a great teacher, so it was no hardship.”

 

Victor slipped his arm over Yuuri's shoulders and sighed.  “I would have loved to teach you Russian.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Not that I'm complaining, but this is certainly a change.  You seem awfully certain I'll welcome you with open arms after you left me hanging for months.”

 

“You will, though,” Yuuri said, making the question a statement.  Victor mock glared at him, as if considering, then grinned.

 

“Always, Yuuri.  Always.”

 

At the cafe, Yuuri stopped the tray from falling without even thinking about it and brushed off Victor's praise.  They ate together, Yuuri catching Victor up yet again on what he'd been doing in the time since they saw each other at the banquet.  Victor admitted that his free skate was the story of Yuuri seducing him. They laughed about their mutual dramatics and made their way to the rink.

 

While Victor started to warm up, Yuuri made his rounds.  He prompted Emil to call Mickey, brushed off JJ's abrasive squawking to get him to open up about music, and then got him and Leo talking.    He skated playfully around Victor until lunch, surprising him every once in a while with a lift or a dip. After they got back to the rink, Yuuri automatically herded the group in with Seun Gil and said just the right things to draw everyone into conversation.

 

Band-aid.

 

Broken lace.

 

Yuuri moved through the day just like every other one before it.  It wasn't until five minutes before he was supposed to take his turn on the ice that he decided to do something different.  One quick trip to the MC later and he was ready. He skated to the center of the rink, not bothering to listen to the announcers shock at his change of program.  When the music started, he let it flow through him. His arms rose up, swept to the side, and then he began to skate. It was the first program that he'd choreographed all on his own.  The story it told was his own, too. It was him learning to skate, finding joy in being on the ice. It was seeing Victor for the first time and falling in love. It was trying to overcome crippling anxiety so that he could compete, so that one day he could share the ice with his idol.  It was his successes and failures, it was winning and losing and learning from both. And then it was  _ this _ .  Getting stuck in this loop that was somehow both the most awful and most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

 

Because he wanted his life back, he wanted to move forward, to make  _ history _ with the people around him and not just start new every day.  But he'd realized somewhere along the way that his life had become a kind of loop already.  He'd gotten stuck in the rut of his anxiety, never able to reach out or move beyond the limitations of his own doubts.  Being forced to repeat every day had released the pressure. It had let him live free to make mistakes, to take risks. And those risks had paid off.

 

Now, he knew how Victor felt about him.  He knew that Victor would – and actually  _ had _ – follow him to the ends of the earth.  If he'd never been caught in this loop, he didn't think he ever would have been able to fully accept that someone like Victor could feel that way about him.  

 

He poured all those emotions out on the ice, telling the story of his life, and of his love.  Of the love he shared with Victor and the future he wanted them to forge together. At the very end, he jumped a quad flip, Victor's signature move, and landed it.  The music finished, the last note echoing around the rink and then being drown out by the roar from the crowd. Yuuri looked around in shock. He'd been so caught up in the skating that he'd forgotten he was performing for a competition.  People were on their feet screaming his name. At the edge of the rink, Victor stood with his hands pressed to his lips. There were tears in his eyes.

 

Yuuri's breath caught.  Their gazes met. Then Victor started running towards the entrance to the rink.  Yuuri skated over as fast as he could, right into Victor's outstretched arms. They embraced, and Victor lifted Yuuri and spun them around, laughing.

 

“You were amazing,” he murmured, his forehead pressed against Yuuri's.

 

“I was skating for you.”

 

“You're not going to make it easy to win, you know.”

 

Yuuri grinned.  “Then skate for me.  Show me exactly how you feel.”

 

“I will,” Victor promised.  And he did. Yuuri had seen the program more times than he could count by now, but Victor always managed to surprise him.  He skated the story of their time together at the banquet, but added something different at the end. Instead of the tale concluding with the beautiful dancer being cast aside, Victor skated half of a duet with a phantom partner.  Yuuri knew exactly who that invisible person was.

 

Yuuri's free skate score was higher than Victor's, but the combination of his earlier short program score put him in second place.  They stood together on the podium with Leo, waving to the crowd but with eyes only for each other.

 

When the award ceremony was finished, they walked back to Yuuri's hotel hand in hand.  Ever since he'd decided it would be wrong to do anything more than kiss with Victor, he'd been careful not to put them in a situation where he might cross that line, but he wanted to be close to Victor.  He wanted to hold him, to kiss him and watch him fall asleep. They stopped at the second floor so that Yuuri could send Ana back to her mother before she was any more lost, much to Victor's bafflement.

 

“How did you know to look for her?” he asked as they went two floors up to Yuuri's room.  Yuuri just laughed.

 

“It's happened before.”  They put down their bags and shed jackets, then sat on the bed.  Yuuri put on an old movie that they both ignored in favor of each other.  Though they started off at a respectable distance from each other, as they night wore on they gravitated together like magnets.  Soon, their lips met and limbs entwined. It was intoxicating, addicting, being pressed together intimately and sharing breath. 

 

For several long minutes, Yuuri let himself be caught up in the kiss.  It wasn't until he realized he was trying to unbuckle Victor's belt that he remembered all the reasons why they oughtn't go further.  Reluctantly, he pulled back.

 

“Victor, I- we can't.”

 

Victor stopped immediately, his eyes going soft.  “I'm sorry, Yuuri, was I rushing you?”

 

“No, not at all.  I want this – god, you have no idea how much I want this – but we shouldn't.  Not like this.”

 

“Alright,” Victor agreed, brushing Yuuri's hair from his eyes.  “Let's take things slow then. Just this.” He leaned in and kissed Yuuri softly on the lips.

 

“Would you want... I mean, if we aren't going any further, would it be too much to ask for you to still stay here tonight, with me?”

 

“I would love that,  _ dorogoy _ .  As long as you're comfortable with it.”

 

Yuuri nodded and they parted long enough to silently strip down to just their pants.  Then they both slipped beneath the ugly burgundy duvet. Victor laid back with his arm out and Yuuri tucked himself close, his head resting on Victor's chest.  Victor kissed his hair and then began absently carding his fingers through it, making Yuuri sigh in pleasure.

 

“I think this might be the best one yet,” he murmured.

 

“Best what?” Victor asked.  Yuuri debated taking the time to explain, but decided against it.  He just wanted to lay in Victor's arms and enjoy his embrace.

 

“Birthday,” he said instead.  “The best birthday.”

 

“It's your birthday, Yuuri?”  Victor tipped Yuuri's chin up so that their eyes could meet in the darkness.  The moonlight made Victor's blue irises shine as silver as his hair.

 

“It is.  I'm twenty four today.”

 

“I wish I'd have known.  I would have gotten you something.”

 

“You've already given me more than I could ask for, Victor.”  They kissed, and then Yuuri settled his cheek against Victor's chest again.  He could hear the slow, steady beats of his heart. No matter how hard he tired to stay awake, to prolong that perfect moment, eventually he was lulled to sleep.

  
  


_ And when you get the chance... you are the dancing queen, young and sweet only seventeen!  Dancing queen, feel the beat- _

 

Yuuri tried to reach for his phone only to find that his arm wouldn't move.  His eyes snapped open as a bolt of panic shot through him. The weight pinning his arm was attached to a wild mass of silver hair.  Yuuri's heart began to pound hard and fast.

 

_ You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life!  Ooh, see that girl, watch that- _

 

“I love this song, but I think it's a little too early in the morning for disco, don't you?” Victor's sleep roughened voice was muffled against Yuuri's chest.  He lifted his head and blinked his eyes blearily. Yuuri stared at him. “Is- is everything alright?”

 

“You're here!”

 

“Er, yes.  I stayed over last night, remember?”

 

“I know... but you're still here!”  Yuuri sat bolt upright.

 

“Is that a problem?”  Victor's face grew concerned.

 

“A problem?  No! NO! It's amazing!  It's wonderful! It's the best thing ever!  Quick, what day is it?”

 

“What?  Yuuri-”

 

“What day is it?” he insisted, scrambling for his phone.

 

“Yesterday was the 24 th , so today is the 25 th .  Saturday.  We have the exhibition tonight.”

 

Yuuri fumbled with the phone and dropped it twice before he got it unlocked and the alarm turned off.

 

Saturday, November 25 th .

 

He blinked, and the numbers remained the same.  He couldn't believe it. His eyes volleyed from the phone, to Victor, and back again.  “It's really the 25 th ,” he breathed.

 

“Are you alright, Yuuri?”

 

“Yes, yes,  _ yes! _ ”  He took Victor's face in his hands and kissed him soundly, then got up and danced on the bed.  “It's Saturday! It's Saturday! It's really Saturday!”

 

“Wow, are you always so excited for the weekend?” Victor asked, watching Yuuri shake his hips and shimmy his shoulders.  When he sat up, Yuuri tackled him back to the bed.

 

“Only when I wake up next to the most beautiful man in the world!”  He rained kisses down on Victor's face until they were both giggling like school children.  Victor rolled them over until he was on top and caged Yuuri in, a wicked grin on his face.

 

“You're the beautiful one,  _ moya zvezda _ ,” he whispered, nuzzling Yuuri's nose with his own.  Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor's shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.  Victor moaned softly. “Yuuri, I won't be able to keep this up if we want to take it slow...”

 

“I've changed my mind about taking it slow, Victor.”

 

“R-really?”  Victor pulled back a little so that he could see Yuuri's face clearly.

 

“Absolutely,” Yuuri declared.  He lifted his hips insistently until Victor began pressing back.  “I've waited long enough for you. I never want to wait again.”

 

“You'll never have to,” Victor promised.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**December**

 

Victor and Yuuri had shocked the world with a whirlwind romance.  They were inseparable, training and traveling together. Victor finally got to experience the hot springs Yuuri had told him about the year before, and they were every bit as wonderful as he imagined they would be.  Yuuri skated his new program at the GPF and took gold, with Victor coming in less than a point behind.

 

On Victor's birthday, Yuuri proposed.  Somehow – Victor never could figure out quite how he managed it – Yuuri did it in the perfect way, the way Victor had dreamed that someday the person he loved would.  

 

By the GPF, Emil and Mickey were holding hands, shooting secret glances at each other when they thought no one was looking.  Sara was ecstatic that her brother had his own romance to keep him busy, because it left her free to find one of her own. She and Mila were often seen whispering in corners, grinning and giggling.

 

JJ finished the season and then retired from skating to make a career in music.  His band was an overnight sensation, launched to fame by JJ's smooth baritone voice and rock star personality.

 

Leo often collaborated with him, composing music that 'JJ's Band' performed.  He kept skating, as well, going on to win the US championships and competing for his country in the Olympics.

  
  
Seun Gil found himself the unwitting center of a close knit group of friends.  It frustrated him to no end that Yuuri always seemed to know exactly what to say to get him to open up, which no one had ever managed to do before.  Though Yuuri didn't have any advice to offer when Seun Gil admitted his parents were trying to force him into an arranged marriage, he did give his unwavering support and a shoulder to lean on.  In the end, Seun Gil had been inspired by Victor and Yuuri, and Mickey and Emil, and came up with the solution. He told his traditionalist parents that he would agree to an arranged marriage... but only with a man.  They were so mortified by the thought that they dropped the subject, and Seun Gil, who hadn't wanted to be married to anyone, male  _ or _ female, was finally able to relax.  


	17. Chapter 17

**Saturday, November 24** **th**

 

Victor knew Yuuri was nervous, but he couldn't figure out why.  Yes, he was another year older, but at twenty five, it wasn't as though he was getting  _ old _ .  The GPF was coming up, but Victor didn't think it was that, either.  Yuuri still felt pressure before a competition, but this was somehow different.  He wondered if it had anything to do with how they'd spent his last birthday.

 

Of course, if Victor had known it was his birthday at the time, he would have done more.  Taken him to a nice restaurant, gotten him a present, the whole nine yards. But Yuuri hadn't told him of the event until they had already been in bed and in no mood to move.  Then again, they hadn't even actually started dating until that very day, so it wasn't as though he'd failed as a boyfriend.

 

Still, he was determined to make  _ this _ birthday better.  They were staying in Hasetsu between competitions, in the attic – Mari's strong suggestion to spare the other guests from their noise – at the Onsen.  Victor had already planned an early family dinner with the Katsuki's, followed by slow dancing under the stars, a full body massage, and a present. Oh and sex, hot sex.  But that wouldn't come till after the present.

 

The whole day, Yuuri seemed on edge.  No matter how much Victor pressed him, he wouldn't say what was bothering him.  By the time they finished family dinner, Yuuri had barely touched his  _ katsudon _ , which told Victor something is seriously wrong.  He took Yuuri out to where he'd strung up fairy lights and had soft music playing, but instead of pulling him in for a dance, he sat them both down.

 

“Yuuri, love, please tell me what's on your mind.  Don't try and tell me nothing's wrong, because I know you better than that.” He raised Yuuri's hand to his lips and kissed the gold band there.  “Please, let me in.”

 

“I... I don't know how to explain it, Victor,” Yuuri sighed.  “I'm afraid.”

 

“Afraid of what?”

 

“Of getting stuck.  Of being caught in a loop and never moving forward.”  He took a deep breath and looked up, the damn bursting now that he'd let a trickle through.  “And I know it's a foolish thing to be afraid of, because even if we got stuck here, even if I had to repeat this day over and over for the rest of my  _ life _ , it would be a blessing that I never could have dreamed for a year ago, but now that I've really got you, I'm greedy for more, for  _ everything _ , and I want to keep going, keep moving onto new things with you, grow old with you...”  He ran out of breath and blinked back the tears that had formed in his eyes.

 

“Oh, love,” Victor pulled Yuuri in close and hugged him.  “You don't have to worry about that. We are going to spend the rest of our lives together, but of course we will keep moving forward.  We'll keep shocking the skating world, and then we'll retire and we can teach young skaters to awe the audience, or we can travel the world performing ice shows, or we can just grow fat and happy and old together.  Our future is wide open. We can do anything we want with it. But the most important thing is that we  _ will have _ a future together.  I can promise you that, Yuuri.”

 

“Can you?”

 

“ _ Yes _ .  No matter what else, we have that much.  Always.”

 

Yuuri searched his eyes, then seemed to come to a resolve.  He let himself be rocked in Victor's embrace, let himself be comforted by the man who had come to mean the world to him.  Eventually, Victor pulled him to his feet and led him through a slow tango. The music changed and they danced cheek to cheek, swaying to the rhythm.  After that, Victor led them up to their room and undressed Yuuri slowly, then rubbed his tense muscles with warm oil. He could practically feel the anxiety leaving Yuuri's body with every press of his fingers.

 

He'd planned to give Yuuri his gift after the massage, but seeing Yuuri's flawless skin slick with oil, having him stretched out naked on the bed, hearing him moan in pleasure from the massage, all combined to make Victor's plans slip his mind entirely.  He couldn't resist pressing himself against Yuuri's pliant, eager body, didn't even try and stop himself from kissing those parted lips, seeking heat and relief and the sweet inferno of release.

 

Sweat was drying on their skin by the time Victor remembered Yuuri's present.  He hopped up from the bed and crossed the room naked to grab the little package.  Excitedly, he pushed it into Yuuri's hands and waited for him to open it. Yuuri tore away the paper to reveal a special edition CD of ABBA.  He looked up at Victor's grin in shock.

 

“Do you like it?  I remembered that alarm on your phone from the first morning I woke up with you and I just knew you needed this.  I looked through all your CDs and didn't see a copy, so I assumed...” he trailed off, wondering if his great idea was not such a great idea after all.  “Yuuri?”

 

“I... I love it, Victor.  Of course I love it. But there's just one thing.”

 

“What?”

 

“If you wake me up tomorrow morning to Dancing Queen, I will shave your head in your sleep so help me god.”

 

Victor let out a horrified gasp.  The fact that his exact plan had, indeed, been to wake Yuuri up with that song made the threat seem all the more severe.  “How could you!” he cried, clutching his now shoulder length hair.

 

“I mean it.  Promise me you won't.”

 

“With threats like that, you'll be lucky if I ever play ABBA again,” Victor pouted.  Yuuri shook his head with a small laugh. “Fine,” Victor sighed dramatically. “I promise.”

 

“Good.  Now come here.”  Yuuri set aside the CDs and held out his arms for Victor, who went happily into them.  They cuddled together on the bed, bodies pressed tightly together both for warmth and for comfort.

 

Sated and happy, Victor fell asleep almost immediately, but Yuuri stayed awake for a long time watching Victor sleep.  He thought of how far they'd come in the last year, and of what all they had ahead of them.

 

_ Please, god, _ he thought as his eyes finally fluttered shut,  _ let me keep having tomorrows with him _ .

 

It was still dark when Yuuri's eyes opened again, though a rosy haze of dawn was starting to creep into the sky.  His heart was pounding and his hand trembled as he reached for his phone.

 

“Mm, 're you 'lright?” Victor asked without opening his eyes, still half asleep.  Yuuri turned on his phone's screen and pulled up the calendar.

 

Sunday, November 25 th .

 

He let out a long breath and smiled.  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Everything is perfect.”  He curled around Victor again and fell back to sleep. 


End file.
